Death and Darkness
by Sumi-Sprite
Summary: What goes better together than Death and Darkness? CRACK, humor fic, sexy!Pitch, silly, clueless Guardians, and jealous Sandy. That's about it. RotG KINKmeme fill! T for swearing.
1. Chapter 1

**Death and Darkness.**

Ch. 1

_A/N~ Hahaha…so now I'm filling…five? Six? Yeah, about six prompts. Where did I put that pistol? XD Kidding! But anyways, this can be read on the KINKmeme, but this is the edited version, and therefore the better version. I am so ashamed of all the grammer errors and lack the overuse of various words in the original. Note to self – don't write sh** when hoped up on allergy pills. It does stuff to you. Seriously._

_This is a fill from DreamWidth obviously from the RotG KINKmeme. Please enjoy! _

_WARNING! For OC on Canon character romance. Rating might go up._

Pairing: Pitch/Death (Male OC)

Genre: Humor, romance.

Rating: T

_~S~_

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

Jack surveyed the area he found himself in. A chilly sigh left his lips as he mentally checked off the area of Canada he had landed in. In under an hour, he had visited over fifty locations of the north-eastern hemisphere, and still, no sign of what he was looking for.

The winter sprite frowned down at the dark, sleeping town of Toronto before him. Never did Jack once think he would get so bored with extended traveling. Though he marked the blandness of it up to having to speed through all these places, rather than enjoy them at leisure. Sighing again, he took off into the wind to continue his search.

Not even an hour ago, maybe a few minutes before he started his search, he and the other Guardians had been summoned by North for a meeting. At first everyone thought it was just a routine meeting to disclose any problems or ideas they may want to discuss; it wasn't rare for them to exchange ideas for their work or the holidays. But with it being so close to the Christmas season, they were a bit surprised by his summoning; the man usually shut himself away to work during the remaining three months to Christmas – it was September now.

When they got there and North appeared, he asked them an odd question…

_**~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~**_

"Has anyone seen or noticed any activity from Pitch lately?" he asked the assembled spirits.

A few odd, questioning looks were given by the others, but they answered none the less. All gave the same answer; no one had seen Pitch since his defeat last Easter – almost six months ago. This earned a disturbed, if not worried, frown from North. All but Jack seemed to automatically know what was going on, and it both confused and annoyed the winter spirit. Bunny put on an intense scowl before he spoke.

"He's not needed now." He said.

"We do not know this Bunny. You yourself know how important our balance is." North retorted.

"Uh…" Jack decided to break in before an argument could escalate, "No meaning to break in here, but uh, new guy and all. What's going on?"

"Is Pitch causing trouble again? So soon?" Tooth added, though the question was half-hearted.

Sandy formed a few images over his head, all of which contained a Moon, an image of Pitch himself, and a question mark. North nodded to Sandy.

"Yes, Man in Moon has asked me about Pitch, but like you, I have not seen him – far too busy with Christmas." He grunted. Again, Bunny frowned, but seemed to gain a proverbial leash around his neck at the mention of Manny.

"We still don't need to-"

"Manny has asked of me, that if none of you have seen him, to have us search for him…" North interrupted with a grim tone.

"What!? But why?" Jack exclaimed.

Sandy formed the image of a Berg Scale. On one side, it featured him and the other Guardians standing on the platform, and on the other stood Pitch. The sand Pitch suddenly vanished, and the scale tipped onto he Guardians' side.

Jack frowned at this, "I don't understand…"

"He means that without Pitch, without _fear_, the balance of our world goes out of order." Tooth explained, her own realization dawning.

"Which means a whole lot of chaos for us, and one very pissed off Spirit of Balance on our hands…" Bunny added gruffly.

"Spirit of bal-?"

"Don't ask…" Bunny cut Jack off, shuddering at the memory of their last encounter with Lady Justice…*

North cleared his throat, "Anyways, bearing this in mind, we must see if Pitch is still doing his job. And if he is…well, let him do it, but at an agreeable pace…"

"So wait…" Jack cut in, "We're basically just going to _let_ that creep give kids nightmares? After all we did? I thought he was the bad guy!"

"We stepped in that one time because Pitch had completely gone overboard, Jack," Tooth said, "Too much fear is bad for the world, but too little of it leads to recklessness and injury."

"Trust us mate, as much as I don't like the bloke, we've seen what happens to the world when fear is 'taking a vacation'…" Bunny's ears pinned back, a certain Spirit of Balance once again coming to mind.

"What a mess…" Tooth groaned, her feathers fluffing.

Sandy seemed to take on a suddenly exasperated look.

"But in the end we all managed to convince Pitch at the time to start spreading fear again."

"_After_ he had us literally beg for it, the bloody sod…"

"Which brings us back to predicament," North concluded, "We must find Pitch, and see if he is continuing his spreading of fears."

"And if he's not…?" Jack asked, uncertain. North shrugged.

"Eh, I bring sack. Sack can be very convincing, da?" The Spirit of Wonder winked over at Jack mischievously…

_**~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~**_

Which brought Jack back to the present, flying over state after state to try and catch even a glimpse of Pitch himself, or a Nightmare. So far, no luck on either, and Jack could only hope the others were having better luck then he was. They had checked the fear spirit's lair at first for obvious reasons, but he hadn't been there. Or if he had, he was ignoring them and hiding in one of the shadows. North commented on how Pitch had taken a similar 'sulk' the last time they beat him down – the Nightmare King had then at the time hidden himself away in the catacombs of France. It had taken them weeks to find him…

'_This better not take weeks…'_ Jack thought disdainfully.

Seeing a familiar area as he coasted over Pennsylvania, Jack descended into his favorite town of Burgess. It was still late, so there was pretty much no chance of finding some kids to coax into a snowball fight. But it wasn't like he had anywhere else to search now; North had only told him to check the north-east hemisphere while the others took to the south and west.

Settling down onto a familiar statue in the middle of the park, Jack twirled his staff and surveyed the town. The chill of the upcoming autumn gave the night air a crisp, spiced scent. Leaves were already turning color and piled up on lawns and yards. It was only mid-September, yet there were already Halloween decorations sparsely set up around houses and buildings. Jack grinned to himself, excitement spreading through him. This would be his first Halloween with believers. Maybe he could go trick-or-treating with Jamie and get in on some candy.

Jack swung his staff with a grin. His mood now much higher, he planned to spread some late frost around the neighborhood. Hallow wouldn't mind – the Halloween spirit was about as laid back as Jack, and they both got along rather well, despite the dark spirit's shy and weary personality.*

The frost sprite was just about to get started, but paused when a strange shadow caught the corner of his eye. He swiftly turned, but found whatever it was causing the dark shape gone. He blinked and rubbed his eyes.

"Must be getting tired…" he muttered.

Removing his hand, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he caught a face full of a certain pudgy gold Guardian.

"JEEZ! Sandy, I know it's close to Halloween, but don't scare me like that. I could have frozen you!" he exclaimed.

Sandy held up his hands and formed an olive branch over his head, though he was grinning mischievously. Jack rolled his eyes, but couldn't stop from grinning at the other. Now assured Jack was calm, Sandy formed a question mark over his head, then pointed to Jack and his eyes.

"Hm? Oh, it's nothing," Jack waved a hand dismissively, "I just thought I saw something. It was nothing probably, I always get a bit tired before fall fully sets in and-"

A tiny gold hand suddenly pressed against his mouth and he was just as suddenly yanked against a grainy chest – wow Sandy was surprisingly strong – before being hauled behind the statue. Jack fought off drowsiness as some of Sandy's sand got into his eyes, and firmly tugged his head back.

"Sandy, what the heck are you-?"

Sandy placed a finger to his lips and made an urgent shushing gesture to Jack. He pointed discreetly to the other side of the statue and urged him to stay quiet.

Frowning, Jack got on his knees and followed Sandy as the two peaked around the statue. At first Jack didn't see anything, but after a moment of staring, he saw something – no, some_one_ – emerge from the shadow of a house.

Pitch Black stood in all his dark, regal glory on the sidewalk, remnants of Nightmare sand flanking him. But he didn't seem…quite right. His skin was paler, almost an off-white shade as opposed to its usual light grey. And his posture was unsteady and strained, as if he was fighting to keep a straight and dignified position. Dark shadows were visible under his sunken eyes, a sure sign of lack of sleep. The shade sighed, shoulders sagging, and ran spidery fingers through his ebony locks. He was the very picture of weariness and exhaustion.

Wow, was all Jack could think, the guy looked like he could use a nap…

"So he's been here, huh? Well, that's great I guess? We can go back and tell the others that-"

Again, Sandy shushed Jack, causing the sprite to frown at him. He didn't exactly like being quiet, or told to be quiet. Granted, he knew it probably wouldn't be a good idea to be belting out sopranos at the moment, but he figured he could at least whisper…

Sandy pointed back to Pitch, his own brow creased from his urgency towards Jack. He sighed.

"What? It's just Pitch," he said, looking back up, "We can go back now and…"

Jack did a double take, blue eyes wide.

Pitch wasn't alone.

The shade straightened his robes and turned down into an alleyway. But not even a moment later, another figure appeared from the shade of a skeletal tree. This one was harder to distinguish, as he(?) wore a long, hooded black cloak. The hood was drawn up, the cape wrapped and closed around the tall figure's form, giving it a shapeless appearance. The only other significant feature to take note of on the figure was the single wispy lock of long white hair that fell out of the hood from a breeze. At first glance, one would compare it to Jack's hair color, but to Jack, it seemed more…_spectral_…

The shapeless being paused a moment on the very spot Pitch once stood. He just stood there for an unknown number of seconds. A beat later, he started walking again – down the same alleyway Pitch had vanished in.

The silence around Jack and Sandy was deafening. It was thick and heavy enough to cut with a knife, and Jack momentarily contemplated seeing if he could probe the air with an icicle and test for any resistance. But he discarded the thought – it was a stupid idea to do in front of others – and instead looked down at Sandy.

"Hey Sandy, what was that about? Who was that other guy?" Jack asked the shorter spirit.

Sandy said – or rather showed – nothing. Actually, he seemed to be…was Sandy _shaking?_ Odd, Jack's never known Sandy to ever be cold. Could he ever get cold? And the shade of gold he now was…it seemed paler, almost flushed to a more pastel yellow.

"Uh…" he tried, poking the Sandman's shoulder, "Sandy…?"

Without warning, the Sandman swiftly turned, grabbed the hood of Jack's hoodie, hauled him onto a Dreamsand cloud, and bolted off like the devil himself was chasing him. Jack lay on the glittering cloud staring up in wide eyed shock at the night sky. But as the blue-black night slowly started shifting into dawn a few minutes later, he pouted and growled to himself.

He was getting a bit fed up with people just whisking him away to their hearts content…

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

_A/N~ So I think this would be my first OC/Canon character fic? Huh, wow, it is! And I can actually see it WORKING! How bizarre is that? (Note – Sumi is almost an anti-OC/Canon slasher, but makes exceptions every once in a blue moon)._

_Hope you all enjoyed!_

_* Lady Justice is a figurehead and representation of justice and balance. She supposedly carries a Berg Scale which symbolizes balance. A very minor OC inspired by the original 'Lady Justice'. Supposedly the Guardians had an earlier encounter with her the last time they fought Pitch, which resulted in the Nightmare King into stopping all forms of fear. Rumor has it he took a 'vacation' just to spite them. She is EXTREMELY strict and disciplinary._

_* Another minor OC of mine, Hal O. Ween, or nicknamed by many as 'Hallow', 'Sleepy Hallow', or 'Hal' is a fire-elemental spirit that personifies the holiday of Halloween. Despite what he represents, he is a shy sort of spirit that constantly carries an air of sleepiness, not unlike Sandy. He has the physical appearance of one very close to Jack's age - around 18 to 19 - though he is significantly older than Jack._

_I OWN ALL OCs IN THIS FIC!_

_~S~_


	2. Chapter 2

**Death and Darkness.**

Ch. 2

_A/N~ Geez, what the hell do you say when you have nothing to say in an A/N? How's the weather? Anyone here from out of state? Dude where's my car? XD_

This is a fill from DreamWidth obviously from the RotG KINKmeme. Please enjoy!

WARNING! For OC on Canon character romance. Rating might go up.

Pairing: Pitch/Death (Male OC)

Genre: Humor, romance.

Rating: T (might change later if the prompter wishes)

_~S~_

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

North pinched the bridge of his nose, releasing a sigh of aggravation. He currently sat in his office, Bunny and Tooth having taken up the rooms he offered them to rest in from their nightly journeys. So far, in the last few hours, none of the Guardians have seen any trace of Pitch in their given areas – North himself had also had no luck in the south-west hemisphere. Tooth had been kind enough to ask her fairies to keep their eyes open for Pitch or any Nightmares, but upon their return, they had nothing to report. North at first figured Pitch was sticking to another country, but Tooth reported that none of her fairies – all of which hailed from almost every country – reported a negative to this.

The entire world was seemingly void of Pitch Black, and this was quite worrying. Bunny was even starting to show some concern for the situation, but didn't voice it. Tooth put Baby Tooth in charge of the reports on her other fairies while she rested, and so far, still no luck. North was reaching the end of his rope. He contemplated asking Manny if he has seen anything, but if he had not seen anything then, he likely hasn't seen anything now. This could have meant a number of things. Either Pitch was hiding away in a very deep abyss of darkness somewhere in the world, he was underground – North had to applaud the troop of fairies that braved Pitch's lair for a second look, turning up nothing – or…or Pitch had somehow faded…

North shook his head at the last thought. No, no matter how hard the Guardians would beat Pitch down, he always came back. He was like a real shadow – on rainy days, it couldn't be seen, but after a while, it always comes back with no intention of leaving. Ironic considering shadows were at their most tangible in daylight, but North wasn't about to assume Pitch had suddenly become diurnal. It was an unstated fact that Pitch _hated_ sunlight.

'_Perhaps I should ask other spirits…'_ he thought. He was about to call in a Yeti to send out summons for the lesser spirits, but paused when he heard a loud yelp outside his office door.

He never expected to see a certain Sandman clutching a struggling Jack Frost in his hands to come barreling into his office…

"Gah! Sandy! Put me _down!_" Jack snapped, trying to yank his hood out of the – surprisingly – strong sprit's grip.

Sandy, seemingly oblivious to his death-grip on Jack's hood, dragged him in further and stopped at North's desk, sand signs flying off him at a breakneck pace. North's head practically spun from all of the shapes and forms, all of which were becoming more and more indistinguishable as the speed picked up.

"Whoa, whoa, Sandy, Sandy…_Sandy!_" North bellowed, standing from his desk.

Sandy's images stopped forming over his head as he stared up at North, as if just realizing he wasn't making any sense. North waited a moment to make sure he had the short spirit's attention before speaking.

"Firstly, please be putting Jack down…" he said, gesturing to the still struggling sprite.

Sandy blinked and looked down at his hand. He jumped and pulled his hand back, as if he was bitten, and Jack fell to the floor with a resounding 'thud'. A colorful string of curses in various languages – languages the two didn't think Jack even _knew_ – tumbled from Jack's mouth before he hauled himself up with help from his staff and fixed Sandy a very annoyed glare.

"What is your problem!? You nearly took my head off _at least_ three times while dragging me through the Workshop!" he snapped.

Sandy gave Jack a meekly apologetic look, but North cut in again before Jack could start getting riled up again.

"Jack, calm self, I am sure Sandy did not mean to try and kill you-" a pointed glare from Sandy, "Sandy, please explain. You seem very flustered."

Jack groaned loudly and threw his arms up. He stormed over to an overstuffed armchair and flopped back into it like a pouting child. Sandy, meanwhile, once again fell into his rapid imaging to North. The Christmas spirit could only make out what he assumed was a skull and a very brief image of Pitch in the chaotic fray. He held up both hands and motioned Sandy to stop.

"Sandy, I cannot understand unless you calm down." He said. He was trying to be patient, but it was obvious he was at the end of his rope.

Surprisingly, it was Jack he found a solid explanation from.

"We found Pitch." He said, flicking large snowflakes off his palm and into the back wall.

"What? You did? Where? When?" North asked, eyes widening in excitement and – though he would never admit it – relief.

"We found Pitch. Yes, we did. In Burgess. About fifteen minutes ago," Jack recited, then gave Sandy a somewhat impressed look, "Got from there to the North pole in record time, I'm surprised I didn't blow chunks onto your sand, dude."

Sandy's pout was enough to replace Jack's condensing look with a smart-aleck grin. North, however, was far too caught up in the fact that no, they wouldn't be playing witch hunt for more than a week, and yes, Pitch was in fact alright, to pay much mind to the sparks jumping between the two.

"This is excellent! That settles things then!" he crowed cheerfully.

"Really? That's it?" Jack asked, surprised.

"Yes! As long as we know he is capable of using shadows and spreading fear, there is no need to worry anymore." North said, waving a hand dismissively.

"But he seemed kind of…tired?" Jack inquired.

"Tired?"

"Yeah. His skin was really pale too – well, paler than it usually is – and he looked like he hadn't slept in a long time…" Jack suddenly frowned to himself, "Wait, does he even sleep?"

"As far as I know. All spirits indulge in some form of sleep from time to time. Is not requirement, but it is good way to recharge batteries."

Both were oblivious to Sandy's frantic waving and signing in the background…

"Huh, did not know that. So wait, does that mean he, like, has nightmares all the time?"

Sandy jumped up and down, waving a large sand-flag and blowing a silent sand-whistle that only yielded bursts of more sand…

"Hah! I highly doubt it, but I am not familiar with his sleep-habits. All of Sandy's dreams become dreams for humans, so maybe the same applies for Pitch."

"That's kind of creepy…"

Sandy slammed a conjured hammer against a matching gong repeatedly while giving the impression of screaming…

"Eh, is how things work I suppose. Not as fun as making toys."

"Yeah, but they get to sleep on the job though."

North gave a hearty laugh at the lame joke.

Sandy wanted to fly to the top of the tallest building in the world and scream his lungs out. Where was a Moon damned elf when you actually needed one!?

"So, the whole 'operation: find Pitch' thing is done or something?"

Sandy eyed the who-knows-how-old fruitcake on North's desk…

"Ah, yes, is done until he attempts another take-over."

He strode over to the desk and picked it up…

"Is that like a common thing or something…?"

Sandy looked from the fruitcake to the back of North's head and back…

"Eh, happens once every few centuries or so, but the last one was probably the worst."

Well it wasn't like it was a hard target to miss…

"Seriously? Isn't that kind of worrying to you guys?"

Sandy pulled his arm back…

"At first it was, but after talk with Mother Nature, there was not much we could do."

Ready…

"Mother Nature…?"

An elf walked in and offered North a plate of cookies…

"Da, but that is story for another time…"

Aim…

"You guys have got to sit me down and tell me about all these crazy escapades."

"Hah! I shall once Christmas is over!" North said, but soon noticed the elf, "Oh, my favorite."

North bent down out of the way just as Sandy threw the fruitcake…

SMACK!

And hit Jack square in the face…

The loud, byproduct-to-face sound attracted the two's attention to a wide eyed, dried fruit covered Jack Frost, who stared ahead in stunned silence as if he had been slapped. The bulk of the cake slid off and flopped – quite loudly – onto the floor. North, Sandy, and the elf could do nothing but stare at Jack as if he had spontaneously grown a second head.

A beat passed before Jack even moved. He slowly turned his head to look at Sandy, a glower contorting his face.

"What…" he started calmly, "The _fuck_ is your problem today?"

Well, it wasn't the _exact_ attention he intended. But hey, it got their eyes on him – beggars can't be choosers after all.

Ignoring Jack – though making a mental note to properly apologize later – Sandy looked up at North and, making sure he signed it slowly and clearly, shaped images over his head.

First was an image of Pitch. Next to it came the image of a plus sign. And lastly, a cluster of images featuring a skull, an hourglass, and a scythe. He put the images together in order in a row, pointing to the first and third image in turn, his expression serious and very concerned.

Jack was about to retort at Sandy for blatantly ignoring him after practically throwing an (in)edible brick at his face, but North beat him to the punch.

"_Yobanny v rot_…"* North breathed, his face losing a significant amount of color, "You saw _him_ with Pitch…?"

Sandy nodded solemnly, his eyes conveying unadulterated concern and – Jack had to do a double-take to be sure – fear.

Well that was a first, if not a bit startling. Jack found his earlier resolve vanish at the utter sense of dread that had suddenly flooded the room like dark water. It was such a strange, uneasy feeling, like when one felt like they were being followed or watched. It sent a very uneasy tingle up his spine – the feeling you would get that prompts you to jump forward and bolt for the door.

Ignoring the chunks of dried fruit and even dryer cake crumbs tumbling into his hoodie, Jack stood up and cautiously probed North's tense, bulky arm.

"Uh, North…?" he inquired, "What's going on? Is this about that person who was following Pitch?"

North's hands clenched into tight fists, causing Jack to swiftly pull his hand back. Sandy formed more images over his head, this time a bit faster, but steadily enough to get his point across.

"Following…? Pitch was not aware?" North asked.

More images formed, and North's frown deepened.

"I see…" North said stiffly.

The large man padded back to his desk and fell heavily into his seat. He set his elbows on his desk and rested his chin on his tented fingers, his intense gaze burning holes into the large desk.

"North…?" Jack's tone conveyed prominent annoyance at being kept hanging like this, but also a sense of concern. He's never seen the two look so disturbed before. He honestly didn't think they knew _how_ to act so rigid.

"That person, Jack…" North started, his voice strained, "Was no ordinary person…"

"What do you mean?" Jack asked, suddenly unsure if he wanted to know.

North let out a heavy sigh and reached for the locked drawer in his desk. The sound of jingling keys was brief before a click was heard, followed by the wood-on-wood shift of a drawer opening. North pulled out a smaller decanter full of gold liquid, and a shot glass.

The two Guardians watched North pour himself a full shot, set the decanter aside, and toss the shot back. He set the shot glass aside and rubbed a temple.

"That person was a spirit, Jack, a very well-known spirit…" North eyed Jack wearily, "You met him once, when you were human."

"What…?" was the confused inquiry, "I think I would remember some creepy guy in a cloak with white hair if I was human, unless I didn't believe in him."

"You don't need to believe in him to see him," North said, "He is a spirit no one can't not acknowledge."

"Well then who _is_ he!?" Blue lightning climbed Jack's staff in a reflection of his frustration.

North sighed.

"That spirit, Jack, is Death."

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

_A/N~…nope, still got nothing. Unless you all want to hear about how hungry I am right now. XD_

_Enjoy!_

_~S~_


	3. Chapter 3

**Death and Darkness.**

Ch. 3

_A/N~ Ahh…something, something, something, I want food damn it. _

This is a fill from DreamWidth obviously from the RotG KINKmeme. Please enjoy!

WARNING! For OC on Canon character romance. Rating might go up.

Pairing: Pitch/Death (Male OC)

Genre: Humor, romance.

Rating: T (might change later if the prompter wishes)

_~S~_

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

"Pitch and _Death!?_"

The loud exclamation from a certain Pooka would echo through the halls of the Workshop for weeks to come. No creature, Yeti or elf, didn't experience a shudder at the mention of the spirit's name.

Bunny was pacing the Globe Room like a caged animal – no pun intended. The others weren't following his aggravated pacing around the room, far too ingrained in their own frantic thoughts to do so. North had abruptly awoken the Pooka and Tooth to relay what he had just found out. At first the two were irritated with having one of their rare sleeps interrupted, but now they had all but completely forgotten about any desire to sleep.

"Yes, but it does not seem like Pitch is aware that Death is following him." North said.

"You mean…he's being stalked?" Tooth asked, eyes wide in fright.

"I cannot be sure," North said, "Jack and Sandy witnessed Pitch leave from causing a nightmare before Death appeared and followed him at a distance down an alley."

"But what does that even mean? Why would Death take an interest in Pitch?" Jack asked.

The others shared uneasy looks with one another, as if mentally conversing. It was a bit unnerving to watch, but considering the circumstances, it could be worse.

"Do you…do you think he's waiting for Pitch to die…?" Tooth asked.

"Wait, what!?" Jack exclaimed.

"It would make sense…" North said, "Jack, you said Pitch looked tired and weak before, yes?"

"Well yeah, but he didn't look like he was about to roll over and _die!_"

Sandy formed more images over his head and gestured to them. North hummed and nodded.

"Yes, we cannot take any chances," he said, "It could be just coincidence, but Sandy suggests we keep an eye out on Pitch for a while, just in case."

"You mean stalk a stalker?" Jack asked.

"Not the time, mate," Bunny scolded, "But yeah, basically."

"And if it's not a coincidence?" Tooth asked.

Uncertainty once again flooded their senses, plunging them into an awkward stand-still in time. But even still, it seemed they all reached the same conclusion in their minds.

"We interfere."

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

The newly established 'operation: stalk Death' – affectionately named by one Jack Frost – had started the moment night descended upon Burgess once again. The Guardians spread out around the small town, hoping the Nightmare King was still in the town and not in some other city. Though from what Jack and Sandy had seen of Pitch, the others doubted he would be getting too far.

And sure enough, Pitch was spotted only a few blocks away from where he was last seen, emerging from a house where a child could be found haunted by a Nightmare. He still looked tired and strained, but he seemed to radiate a bit more energy than last time.

The Guardians found themselves finding how ironic it was how their roles seemed to be reversed in the face of their enemy. Where it was Pitch who would hide in shadows and carefully dissect a situation to his advantage, it was now they who were hiding in shadows and quietly assessing the shade's movements and actions. Or more, they were observing the one tracking his movements…

It took three nights for them to finally spot the obsidian clad spirit following Pitch at a small distance. Once it was confirmed, North, Tooth, and Bunny nearly blew their cover at the sight of the soul-reaper.

Though none of them wanted to jump to conclusions. They did not want to rush into a situation they were not fully aware of, and face off against Death himself for a misunderstanding. The Guardians eventually decided to keep watching over Pitch for a little longer before they took any real action…

They last a week before their resolve started to crack.

With each night, it seemed Death was slowly starting to drift closer and closer to Pitch. And each time, Death came close to almost touching Pitch while the shade remained seemingly oblivious. There were a few times they would see Pitch look over his shoulder and frown into the darkness, as if he was aware something was amiss. But after a moment of scrutiny, he would go on his way and move on.

It was on the eighth night that the Guardians broke under the tension. They watched Death come so close to Pitch when the Boogeyman took an impromptu break on the park bench. He was leaning back with his eyes shut, breath calm and steady – it was like he was asleep. Death had approached him at that moment and loomed over Pitch. And not a moment later, an ivory hand clad in a fingerless glove emerged from the black cloak.

The fingers were like transparent porcelain, the bones themselves visible through the pasty skin. But no sign of muscle, blood vessels, or other tissue was visible; just bone. It was such an eerie, dizzying sight to take in – it was almost nauseating. The bones shifted angles in a fuzzy blur, not unlike how images shifted in holographic cards.

The hand reached out towards Pitch slowly, as if Death was afraid of waking him. His fingertip was only a mere hairs breadth away from touching one of the high cheek bones before anything happened.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a whip of gold Dreamsand whipped out and snagged Death's wrist, yanking it away from Pitch before Death even knew what was going on. Sandy didn't miss a beat and yanked his whip again, sending Death into the air and crashing into the statue in the park's center with a resounding _crack!_

The Guardians quickly moved and surrounded the reaper, weapons drawn and expressions unyielding.

Death groaned and pushed himself out of the small crater his impact created in the statue. A loud pop was heard as he twisted his neck, concealed eyes locking onto the Guardians.

"I thought I smelt a few rats…" his voice was low, almost like a hushed, husky growl – it sent chills down their spines and dropped a nauseous burden into their guts.

"Death, we ask that you leave this place." North said firmly, sabers pointed at the reaper.

Death scoffed, "And why, exactly, should I leave? Last I checked, it was I who was in charge of human lives, not yours."

Whips still drawn, Sandy signed frantically to the reaper, his gaze angry. Death cocked his head to one side, his voice conveying a frown.

"Leave Pitch alone…?" he asked, a confused frown almost conveyed in his tone.

"Yes, you have no business with his life. You of all spirits know the importance of the balance of this world." North growled.

An odd silence overtook the group, Death himself making no move to retaliate or attack. He just stared up at the Guardians with hidden eyes, unmoving. That unnerving sensation had long since returned, but this time it also seemed to support a sense of confusion.

A quiet noise from Death drew their attention back to him. At first it sounded like a small cough, or perhaps a sneeze. But the noise soon gained volume, unveiling a new sense of dread and sickeningly tingling nerves in the Guardians' bodies.

Death was _laughing._

The sound was full of mirth and honest humor, as if he had been told the funniest joke in the world. But the sound that flooded their ears and stained their senses was like acid. It leaked and burned into their bones, sending their nerves spiraling into a chaotic whirlwind. That crawling electricity in their spines increased tenfold and shot like an arrow into their hearts, stunning their lungs and paralyzing muscles. Nausea was not even close to describing the sensation in their guts; the closest they could get to describing it would be like swallowing a full bag of live spiders with pin-needle legs.

The blood chilling laughter finally died down as Death calmed himself. Still chuckling humorously, he got back up on his feet and gripped the Dreamsand tether around his wrist.

"Oh this is absolutely _priceless_…" he laughed.

With a swift tug, the Dreamsand whip snapped off his wrist, the grains losing their stability and falling to the ground like lifeless dirt.

"Cute, Guardians, very cute," he said, wiping sand off his hands, "But not my cup of tea. The lot of you can mind your own business and go back to your _lovely_ homes with your tails between your legs."

"Death…" North started, "Leave Pitch be…"

"Why would you lot care what I do with him?" Death asked patronizingly, "It was you who put him in this position anyways. You have no right to be acting like his knights in shining armor."

The words stung like angry hornets, and none of them could deny the truth in his words. But they had little to no choice in the matter. Pitch was a dangerous man, but he was also an important aspect to the balance of their world. In a perfect world, they wouldn't have to fight like a pack of rivaling wolves. But Pitch was stubborn, and not at all a team player. The Man in the Moon had more than once offered Pitch a place in Guardianship, and each time he had refused. It just wasn't in Pitch's nature to take the world's balance into consideration. It was always either his way or the high way.

"Speechless are we?" Death chuckled, "I would be too if I put a good man into the ground."

"Good man my furry tail!" Bunny snapped. Death tsked at the Pooka and sighed.

"Shame, and here I thought the so called Guardian of Hope had a more open mind," he said, shrugging, "Oh well, can't judge a bunny by his ears I suppose."

"Listen here you, I-"

"Oh would you look at the time! I believe I hear an elderly gentleman in China calling my name…" chuckling darkly, Death conjured a black and silver scythe seemingly out of thin air.

The Guardians took uneasy steps back as Death held his scythe at an angle in front of himself.

"I would love to stay and chat, but unlike _some_ people, I have a _real _job to do…" he said.

Raising his scythe, he swiped it swiftly at the air. A tear formed in midair, as if reality had distorted and formed a rift. The tear was as tall as Bunny, and radiated a cold, unstable aura into the air. Death saluted the Guardians and stepped over to the tear, his hidden smirk practically radiating off of him.

"Tah…" he jumped into the tear just as it sealed up.

Death had vanished from the park completely, leaving the Guardians with no one but each other and Pitch. They didn't even think the shade could sleep through all that racket.

A sudden jolt shot up their backs and they all swiftly turned towards the bench.

Pitch was gone…

To be continued…

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

_A/N~_ _Oh my god, I am going to bed! Do you hear me? BED!_

_~S~_


	4. Chapter 4

**Death and Darkness.**

Ch. 4

_A/N~ One thing I am capable of while still in zombie-mode – posting pre-edited sh** into my archive. Yay~ XD_

This is a fill from DreamWidth obviously from the RotG KINKmeme. Please enjoy!

WARNING! For OC on Canon character romance. Rating might go up.

Pairing: Pitch/Death (Male OC)

Genre: Humor, romance.

Rating: T (might change later if the prompter wishes)

_~S~_

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

Despite Death's warning – or more his insults and snark – the Guardians did not yield in their mission.

Much to their relief, Pitch had reappeared two days after he vanished from the park. The Guardians figured he must have woken up during the squabble with Death and then fled on his own. It wasn't too much of a stretch – he was Death for crying out loud, no one was stupid enough to not have _some_ fear of him. Plus the Guardians themselves probably weren't the most welcome sight to wake up to…

But even still, their relief was short lived. Death continued to stalk the oblivious Nightmare King. But this time, he seemed to be openly mocking the Guardians. Whether he knew they were there or not, he made very great efforts to put them on edge.

Sometimes Death would approached Pitch from behind and reach out, as if to touch him. But he would pull back at the last minute and vanish. Other times he would be mere feet from Pitch and casually stroke the blade of his scythe. That in itself was unnerving to say the least; but what really got on the Guardians' nerves – especially Sandy's – was when Death would come close enough to nearly pressing up against Pitch's back. And with a feather light touch, he would stroke the ends of his hair and puff a cold breath of air against an ashen grey ear. Pitch would become startled and whirl around, but Death would have already vanished.*

Though this did nothing in offering the Guardians any form of comfort or reassurance…

Another week of their surveillance passed, it was now only a matter of time until things went to hell. Just one little slip, one little mistake, and the whole game of stalker versus stalker would come crashing down…

That so called 'slip' happened on the thirteenth night…

The Guardians once again found themselves in the familiar town of Burgess – it seemed that Pitch was, in fact, too weak to travel outside the town. That, or he just had a unique fondness for the town, or perhaps it was one of his more comfortable haunts since he lived in the town's forest.

During the last week, Pitch has continued to display just how weak he was, despite him gaining small amounts of energy over time. He could sometimes be found taking unplanned dozes between haunts – he likely never plans these naps, but once he stops and rests, he just slips right into them it seems. He has more often than not been found on benches, under trees, or – on one or two occasions – hanging upside down from a tree branch or power line. Those incidents were definitely one of the more bizarre things the Guardians have seen Pitch do, and that's saying something.*

This time, the Boogeyman was found slumped against a tree on the outskirts of a small neighborhood – not too far from the Bennett house. Unlike most nights, Pitch would usually send Nightmares to three or four homes before calling it in and vanishing to who-knows where – he never popped back up in his lair afterwards – but tonight, he had spread a total of ten Nightmares; a major jump than his usual rounds. The man was obviously exhausted, if his rapid breathing was anything to go by.

It was at this point the Guardians deemed it safe to approach him while he was so exhausted. Though they kept themselves at least a few meters away – far enough to react to an attack, yet close enough to observe.

"So…" Jack started, looking over Pitch's prone form, "What do we do?"

"Haven't seen Death since last time, about two days ago," Bunny said, "Maybe he gave up…?"

North shook his head, "No, too easy. Death is a persistent creature. He would not leave someone alone or 'give up' without good reason."

"Maybe he realized it wasn't Pitch's time…?" Tooth guessed, hovering nervously.

Sandy formed a small play of images – it featured Pitch turning around while Death was behind him. And realizing he was being stalked by the spirit, the sandy copy proceeded to attack and make 'loud' exclamations against Death until the other spirit fled.*

Sandy shrugged his shoulders, his inquiry more half-hearted than certain. North frowned and stroked his beard.

"Is possible, but uncertain. Then again, perhaps even Death could not out Pitch in terms of stubbornness…" he muttered.

"Oh you don't even know the half of it."

Startled, the Guardians whirled around, weapons drawn. A few feet behind them Death stood leaning casually against a tree, all of which abruptly began to decay at a steady rate from his touch. The spirit nonchalantly examined his nails as he spoke.

"You all are wasting your time here. Pitch has no desire to see you, nor does he need your 'help' as you put it." He said calmly.

"Oh really? Then mind explaining why he's so damn tired all the time? He's spreading Nightmares like he usually does, and yet he's not getting any better!" Bunny snapped, "You being around him just sucks the life right out of him!"

Death scoffed, "You know, despite popular belief, my touch and presence doesn't 'suck the life' out of people unless I desire to."*

"Death, we're not asking again. Leave Pitch be. The world needs him, and you can't just go around taking other spirits' lives!" Tooth interjected.

Again, that mind numbing laughter surrounded them like a suffocating sheet of wool. Like before, it was mirthful and free, and yet despite its humorous tenor, it sent chills down every living creature's spine.

"Ah, you all are so narrow minded, it's amazing," he said, "Seems the Moon will make any idiot a Guardian these days…"

"That tears it!" Bunny gave no second thought into, literally, leaping into an attack.

A pair of boomerangs went flying for Death, but the spirit gave them no time to land their mark. A quickly summoned scythe easily deflected them before the reaper rushed towards them, blade drawn over his shoulder.

The Guardians parted as the blade came down. Jack, now airborne, shot a beam of ice towards Death. The reaper turned his back to the shot, inevitably having his shoulder frozen over all the way down to his forearm. He didn't have time to break the ice off or recover as a familiar whip of Dreamsand wrapped around his exposed ankle and yanked backwards.*

"Gah…!" Startled, Death released his scythe as he went flying up into the air in an arch before crashing down to the forest floor _hard_ on his back.

Groaning, and trying to clear away the stars flashing in and out of his vision, Death strained to sit up. But a saber blade held firmly to his throat stopped him from moving further. His hidden gaze locked up onto the Christmas spirit looming over him.

"Last chance Death…" North growled, "I would like to avoid explaining to Father Time why his son is missing his head, but if it means keeping the balance, I will not hesitate…"*

"You really think Father would allow you to behead me?" Death scoffed.

"Nothing has happened so far, I have no reason to believe he will stop or encourage you." North said firmly.

Death had to give him that at least; who knows what went on in the time spirits head? He was as annoyingly enigmatic as those riddling sphinx of Egypt sometimes. For all they knew, Time was just bored again and getting a kick out of watching the skirmish. It certainly sounded like something he'd do.*

"This is your last chance Death…" the large spirit growled grimly, "Leave Pitch be, or I will end you."

A chuckle from the reaper, "You honestly think you can kill death? Honestly old man, I thought you were smarter than this. You cannot kill, avoid, or cheat death."*

"Final warning…"

"Yeah, that's cute and all, but I have a schedule to keep; you know, _dead_lines and all that…"*

Before North could even make a confused expression, Death lifted a hand outwards. The once discarded scythe shuddered briefly, before it suddenly hovered a few inches off the ground and shot for Death's outstretched hand. The crook of the weapon hooked behind North's knee as it shot forward, causing the large Guardian to topple backwards and onto his fellow Guardians. Now buried under a few hundred pounds of Christmas Wonder, Death chuckled and stood up, brushing some dirt off his cloak.

"And here I thought our play-date would last a bit longer," he said, "Oh well, duty calls. Have a nice night Guardians."

Cutting a rift into space, Death saluted the pile of disoriented spirits before leaping through. A second later, the rift closed, leaving everyone to wonder just what had happened.

"Ugh, son of a…! Get off us you big lummox!" Bunny snapped from under the red Guardian.

Hastily, North scrambled off of his colleagues and to his feet. The others, groaning, stiffly moved out of the small crater they had created to crack their spines back into place and get feeling back into their limbs.

"God…! North, there is this great thing called salad, you should _really_ try it sometime, mate." Bunny growled. His back giving a loud 'crack' as he straightened up.

Sandy made a sand duplicate of Pitch over his head – or his hunched back more like it. North frowned before his eyes widened.

"Pitch!" the Guardian spun around towards the tree the Boogeyman was last seen under. He was gone…

"_Govna…!_" North punched a nearby tree in his frustration.*

"Well great, what do we do now?" Jack snapped in exasperation, "Quite frankly, I'm getting tired of being thrown around like a ragdoll and _not_ getting the last word in! Do you have any idea how bad that looks on me?"

"Not counting the whole last word thing, I agree with Jack," Tooth said, plucking some broken feathers from her body, "We can't just keep jumping in like this. We need an actual plan!"

"Tooth's right, this is just getting stupid," Bunny agreed, "Death is strong, and obviously smart – like his damned Father – and probably even knows we're following Pitch."

"What do you suggest we do then?" North asked, pinching the bridge of his nose, "If you are right, and I am sure you are, Death is very aware of our following of Pitch! We can't work around that!"

"Well I don't know! You're the ideas guy in this gang of sorry blokes! You tell me!"

Sandy decided to break in before necks started snapping. He managed to get their attention, and then went through a small series of images and shapes. All eyes watched him intently, and as the images ceased, all he got were frowns of confusion.

"I don't think we understand, Sandy…" Tooth said meekly.

Sandy made to look like he was sighing. And eyeing North, he decided to make it as simple as possible. Sack, plus Pitch, plus the North Pole, plus the Guardians. He held his hands up as if to say, 'well?'.

"Yes…yes, I see!" North crowed, "Hah! You are genius Sandy! I fully agree!"

"On what? Having a repeat of what finally got me into the Workshop?" Jack asked incredulously.

North shrugged, "Eh, in sense, yes. But not for same reason."

"So…?" Bunny urged.

North merely grinned and crossed his massive arms.

"We use next battle with Death as distraction, then 'invite' Pitch to Workshop!"

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

_A/N~ Hm, I just now seemed to notice how big a contrast this is to my usual work. This is definitely going to be one of my more…silly…fills. XD_

_- if these actions don't scream 'MINE' then I don't know WHAT does..._

_- ...oh I KNOW you all can imagine this! If you deny it, I am sorry, but you are a LIAR! XD Also, Pitch's tiredness will be explained a few chapters down~_

_- Translation: Pitch saw he was being followed by Death, unleashed one of his magnificent tantrums on him, and thus scared him off. Haha, not likely._

_- I honestly do see this as a possible theory. I mean, come on, if you're going to be Death's lover, you should be able to touch him. I can't imagine them having decent sex lives if Death's partner suddenly dropped from a kiss..._

_- I suck eggs on fight scenes...TwT_

_- Honestly, one's death is simply a way of their time ending. So it's not too far a stretch to assume Death and Time would go hand in hand in some way. Father Time himself has also been called The Grim Reaper in various cultures. So their 'relation' is more a play on words and a partnership/kinship, not so much a child-parent one. Death is, however, in a sense close to Time and Mother Nature (since death is one of the most natural things) and was supposedly created by the two spirits in my headcanon. Roll with it._

_- My perception of time - or more my OC/headcanon of Father Time - is of someone a lot like Clockwork from Danny Phantom. Sarcastic, dry humored, enigmatic yet sometimes bends the rules, or 'cheats' as they say. My FT is as ever shifting and ever changing in mood and attitude as time itself. So he can be rather tolerable, but other times he's just flat out insufferable._

_- This is heavily believed in some cultures. Death is perceived as an unstoppable force to many people, and many believe it is completely unavoidable. Take into consideration those 'Final Destination' movies, but without all the loopholes and gore. You die eventually, and while you may escape Death at some point, he's ALWAYS going to come back._

_- You can see where Time's traits come into his 'son'. Ex, the bad pun and snark._

_- This is a loose translation to saying 'shit' in Russian. I'm not fluent, so go easy on me._

_Enjoy this update! _

_~S~_


	5. Chapter 5

**Death and Darkness.**

Ch. 5

_A/N~ And here we get a bit more silly, and exploit Pitch's (not) secretly being a male model. Enjoy._

_Secondary warning for implied one-sided Quicksand (or Blacksand as it's also being called) aka Sandy/Pitch._

This is a fill from DreamWidth obviously from the RotG KINKmeme. Please enjoy!

WARNING! For OC on Canon character romance. Rating might go up.

Pairing: Pitch/Death (Male OC)

Genre: Humor, romance.

Rating: T (might change later if the prompter wishes)

_~S~_

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

On paper, it looked like a good idea. The general method also had a good track record of success – much to Jack's chagrin – so it wasn't like it was a bad idea…

Or so they kept telling themselves.

But until the plan could be put into action, the Guardians went back to stalking Pitch. For the next four nights, they purse Pitch under the cover of night. The sheer irony of the situation is, in fact, not lost on the Guardians. By the end of it, they are all either laugh themselves into a coma or taking a moment to question their morals.

But each of those nights were rather routine for Pitch it seemed. Show up, select a home, haunt it for a minute or two to craft a fitting Nightmare, get out, move onto the next house, and repeat. However, a few things were becoming evident with each night, and it left the Guardians scratching their heads.

Pitch seemed to be changing his clothes every night they saw him. One would think a wardrobe change wouldn't be that noticeable, but for someone like Pitch – who always seemed adamant at keeping a simple, monotonous wardrobe in this day and age – it was more a question of how one _didn't_ notice.

The first new robe was rather simple, but much more decorated than his original. This one had a silhouette just like his old one, but it had a higher collar and draped sleeves that came down to the elbows. Flanking the loose sleeves were dark gold gauntlets ending at his wrists and elbows, both of which matched the accommodating thin belt around Pitch's waist. Gold embroidery lined the hem of the robe's bottom and the collar.

Okay, new outfit. No big deal; maybe the Boogeyman was finally starting to show some appreciation in the more elaborate side of fashion.

The second robe was slightly different than the last. It was similar in that it had the same silhouette, but it was closer fitting around the hips and legs; almost like a mermaid style gown. It was sleeveless like a tank top, but was accompanied by over-the-elbow gauntlets made of the same material as the robe. Jack called them 'sleevies' or something, the lack of sleeves and accommodating arm covers highlighting the Boogeyman's knobby shoulders. And like the one before, it was accented modestly with gold, but presented almost no collar.

More elaborate and eye catching, that's certainly new. But nothing to worry about…

The third robe however, was quite an eye catcher – or so Sandy thought. This robe seemed to expose more skin, and was formfitting like the last. Unlike the previous two that opened in the front, this one boasted two long slits that started from the hips down, exposing legging clad legs – the ankles of which were accented by gold ankle-bracelets. The top, unlike the last two, boasted an extremely wide-neck collar that hugged the outsides of the Boogeyman's shoulders, exposing his neck, collar bones, and shoulders. The wide neck itself had a gold fringe along its hem. The sleeves hugged his upper arms, but tapered off into a loose frill that didn't even cover the shade's wrists; this revealed a couple thin gold bands around his wrists. A thin belt of gold was loosely wrapped around Pitch's waist, seemingly highlighting the movements of his hips as he walked – Sandy didn't seem to be looking anywhere else, or so the others swore.

He was getting more…amorous in his wardrobe. Okay, no problem, the man was known for his vanity, everything was fine…right?

The Guardians would later regret this thought come the fourth night, and thus the fourth robe. Or if it could even be _called_ a robe. Sandy nearly blew their cover when he spotted Pitch, a puff of shocked exclamation points and question marks sprouting all over his body.

This robe was…honestly, the Guardians were starting to wonder if Pitch was doing this on purpose just to tease them. Or at least Sandy; the Dreamweaver was practically drooling by this point…

The robe was cut on the sides like before, but there was also a slit in front that started bellow the navel and shot up into the collar in a wide V-neck. The robe itself was practically skintight around his form, and the back…it practically didn't _have_ a back. The hole that exposed the back was diamond shaped and large enough to expose prominent shoulder blades and a spine, and the tip dipped low enough to end just at the starting cleft of Pitch's ass. The light shadow cast by the teasing dip was not near dark enough to mistake for a part of the robe itself. The slits were cut slightly higher, exposing the lower hips.

The scary part though was that he seemed to be only wearing thigh-high boots with medium stiletto heels, and nothing else below around his thighs (Sandy suffered a small sand-bleed when he noticed the flash of skin above the boots through a slit). He thankfully wore long sleeves this time – the only 'decent' trait – with familiar gold bands. Though the jewelry didn't end there; either Pitch recently got his ears pierced in various places, or they were always pierced, but either way, his ears were studded with gold hoops, studs, and one thin cuff-stud-chain combo. More gold accented all areas of his anatomy that would have been seen as inappropriate in polite society – the diamond shaped embroidery on the crotch of the robe was a good example to this.*

A silent agreement was made between them to not comment on these weird wardrobe changes. It simply was not worth the mental images. Enticing as they were, but like hell they would admit it – except Sandy, who seemed to be making a point in showing how little shame he actually possessed.

For now trying – and sometimes failing – to ignore Pitch's bare back, the Guardians kept themselves wound tight like springs. Their senses were on high, now anticipating Death's arrival. It was so strange just how much irony they were all experiencing during the month. And they silently swore by the end of this they were going to take a nice, long look at their morals and self-preservations. Because this was just getting uncomfortable.

"Look there!" Bunny hissed.

The others straightened and scrambled to look over the foliage they were hidden in bordering the forest. And sure enough, there was Death, following an oblivious Pitch into the down town area.

"Well? Should we start?" The Pooka asked.

"No, we wait until they are in square." North instructed.

The five spirits continued to watch the two dark spirits as they wandered down the sidewalk and towards the square. The anticipant energy buzzing around them was practically palpable, humming and crackling like electric bees. But none of them dared to move for fear of alerting any of the two of their presence.

Pitch entered the square, and North nodded to Bunny and Sandy.

"Go, go now!" he hissed.

The two spirits took off silently. Bunny leaped silently from rooftop to rooftop of the buildings on one side, while Sandy hovered from one building to the next. All movement paused however, when Pitch stopped in his trek and frowned.

The Guardians froze to their spots, waiting for something to go wrong and for their plan to be thwarted. Pitch's eyes scanned the area in front of him, pupils constricting as his gaze passed over the streetlights. By this point, it wouldn't have mattered if the whole town was illuminated; Pitch's night vision would spot them easily if they didn't hide themselves properly.

The shade clenched a hand into a fist, Nightmare sand pouring from his clenched fingertips. The others jolted with a start as he suddenly spun with a snarl, his hand outstretched and unleashing a barrage of Nightmare sand arrows.

The miniature arrows flew and vanished into the night, the Guardians now just realizing that Death – a key role in their plan – had vanished before Pitch even fully turned.

The shade continued to glare daggers into the empty air before him, as if waiting for someone to come out and reveal themselves. The Guardians held their breath, praying to the Moon that Pitch would not simply leap into a shadow and disappear again.

A beat passed before Pitch's tense shoulders relaxed and he straightened. He let out a puff of air and smoothed down his robes before he turned on his heel and continued on his way.

The others also let out a collective breath they didn't even know they were holding. With Death now missing, they might not even need to execute their plan. They might still have to be a bit 'persuasive' with Pitch, but now they wouldn't have to worry about having their heads lobbed off by the spirit's scythe.

"See something you like?"

And all hell broke loose.

The startled yelp Tooth accidently let out was enough to attract Pitch's attention. His head spun around and he veered in North, Jack, and Tooth's direction. He almost immediately caught sight of them, and was about to make a run for it-

"AH!" Pitch yanked his hand defensively towards his chest as a familiar golden noose snapped around his wrist.

A second whip soon joined the other just as Bunny and Sandy leaped from their hiding places and rushed over to him. Pitch struggled wildly, causing Sandy to apply more 'rope' to his forearms, which only seemed to rile Pitch up further like a wild beast.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing!?" the Nightmare King snarled.

"Calm down, mate, we're just trying to-"

"Don't you touch me!" Pitch shrugged off the paw that landed on his shoulder and spun around, planting a _very sharp_ stiletto into one of Bunny's feet.*

"CRICKEY YA BLEEDIN' DAG!" Bunny shrieked, yanking his impaled foot out from under its aggressor.

Using the distraction to his advantage, Pitch threw his bound arms to his side, causing Sandy to crack like a whip himself and slam into the now one-foot-hopping Pooka. Both went tumbling into a lamppost, thus knocking its bulb out of commission.

North, Jack, and Tooth, after seeing the commotion, decided to take their chances and abandon their scuffle with Death. Instead they opted to retreating from the fight and rush for Bunny and Sandy, both of whom were now starting to regain their senses while Pitch tried to snap off the Dreamsand rope from his arms.

"Pitch!" North yelled as they rushed for him, weapons drawn.

Pitch looked up, eyes wide and conveying obvious unease, "Oh hell no…" he muttered darkly.

Just as the three were about to reach him, a blur of black and white flew over their heads and towards Pitch. The Boogeyman's eyes seem to widen further as his jaw dropped.

"Death-!?"

Whatever it was he was about to say was cut off as he was suddenly yanked by his still bound wrists towards Sandy. Death landed feet first harshly onto the pavement, a sound reminisce of a snarl escaping him as Pitch was reined in towards Sandy like a fish on a hook.

Pitch crashed into the Dream weaver's arms as Bunny leaped forward – on his good foot – and landed a hit to Death's head with one of his boomerangs.

"And stay down ya dill!" Bunny snapped, before looking to Sandy, "Get him outta here! We'll catch up later!"

"What-NO!" Pitch yelped as he was suddenly hauled into Sandy's arms bridal style, a Dreamsand cloud forming quickly under them and launching them into the sky.

Death growled darkly as he recovered from his head injury, his teeth audibly gritting. He veered around to face the Guardians with a hidden scowl.

"You all have overstayed your welcome…" he growled, his scythe materializing in his hands.

"Look who's talking bone-bag!" Jack snapped.

The winter sprite sent a stream of ice and sleet at Death, providing cover for North, Bunny, and Tooth to go in for an assault. Unable to see, Death found himself becoming overpowered quickly by the Guardians and their own weapons. But none of this would matter in a moment.

Meanwhile, Sandy felt like he was trying to keep a hold on a very slippery fish. A very slippery fish with teeth, claws, miles of legs with knees that could take an eye out, and one very nasty attitude.

"Put me down! Put me down _right now_ you overgrown creampuff!" Pitch practically shrieked into his ears as he struggled in the other's grip.*

Never mind that they were hundreds of feet up in the air, Pitch obviously wanted to get out of whatever this whole thing was – not that anyone could blame him. Though it wasn't like Sandy was about to willingly let him, but he was finding it difficult keeping the Boogeyman in his grip.

"You have got five seconds to put me down, or so help me, I will use you as my Nightmares' litter box!"*

Now that was just insulting, Sandy thought. He contemplated forming a sand-gag for Pitch, but was abruptly cut off from the thought when a bare-knuckled fist slammed perfectly into his forehead. Sandy let out a silent yelp and threw his hands up automatically to cover the pained area. He realized too late his mistake as Pitch plunged at a worrying speed down towards the battle below.

Various exclamation points shot out of Sandy's head, and he wasted no time in diving for the free-falling shade.

Pitch, despite his free-fall, was surprisingly calm. This wasn't exactly the first time he's found himself without any land under his feet – he's been kicked off his Nightmares enough times to know this feeling of falling.* But there were shadows everywhere, and even more so now with one of the street lights taken out. If he could just maneuver himself a bit more to the right, he could dive into a shadow and escape this madness.

Back on the ground, Death finally broke free of the personal blizzard given to him by one Jack Frost and regained his vision. Snarling, he shot forward and planted a leather footed boot onto Jack's sternum and shoved him down onto his back. Death loomed over him as the other Guardians stood their ground, unable to do anything with jack in Death's clutches.

"Our little game was fun at first, but now you're all pissing me off," he hissed, pressing the top of his scythe blade into Jack's neck, "I despise redoing my work, but this time, I think I might enjoy it…"

Jack grit his teeth as he tried to push the scythe away from his neck, but to no avail. But just as he was about to lock eyes with Death for a second time in his life, a blur of black and gold caught his eye. He looked up past Death's hooded head and gasped.

"Pitch!" He called.

Death frowned under his hood and turned around. An almost nonexistent gasp escaped his mouth at the sight of Pitch nose-diving for the shadowed sidewalk.

"North, go now!"

Death suddenly became aware of a chill in his legs and feet. And looking down, he was confronted with the sight of his limbs now iced to the street. Jack easily slid out from under him while he was distracted and iced down his hands and scythe. The instrument suddenly became too heavy to lift, causing Death to bowl over as the frozen blade imbedded itself into the asphalt.

Once satisfied, Jack joined North, Tooth, Bunny, and Sandy in racing towards where Pitch was just a handful of meters away from escape. If they could beat him to the shadows, there would be no escape with Sandy above him.

Almost, Pitch thought, hands reaching for his beloved shadows, just a little bit more and he could-

His vision was suddenly filled with the inside of a sack, courtesy of North.

"HAH! Bra-va!"* North exclaimed as he tied up the sack.

"Okay, we got the bloody dag," Bunny grit, his injured foot throbbing, "Now let's get outta here before Death breaks free!"

"Don't worry, that's solid ice!" Jack crowed, "He's not getting out of that anytime soon."

A loud _crack_ was heard, drawing the Guardians' attention to Death, who was easily starting to cleave at the ice with the pointed end of his scythe.

"Not getting out eh?" Bunny growled.

"Yeah, hey, shouldn't we be going by now?" Jack asked, ignoring Bunny.

North quickly pulled out a globe as Death broke off a chunk of the ice, and Pitch started to struggle in the sack. Shaking it, and saying their destination, he threw the globe into a wall. He and the others leaped through, the portal closing just as Death broke free of his icy restraints.

Silence engulfed the square. The orange and yellow glow of the now rising sun slowly crept up over the buildings as Death stared into the open air where five Guardians and Pitch used to be.

Hands tightening impossibly around his scythe, Death felt his rarely used temper rise.

Great, he thought, he wasn't going to hear the end of this later…

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

_A/N~ I hope to have the next installment up sometime today! Keyword being 'hope', because hell knows I like to procrastinate. XD_

_~S~_

_- I will write a one-shot for the first person to draw Pitch in any of these outfits!_

_- OUCH! That's all I got, it's definitely noteworthy in terms of pain ~ _

_- I now seemed to notice with all that has been going on, along with his wardrobe, it's easy to see that Pitch is the 'girl' of the relationship. XD_

_- I'm actually shocked at the lack of litter-box jokes on Sandy in fics. I mean come ON! _

_- Hey, it's fitting. It likely took Pitch years to master the Nightmare sand. And Nightmare or not, training a horse is HARD and more often than not quite painful. Seriously, I dare anyone in this community to go out and try and mount an untrained horse. And that's IF you manage to get a saddle on one XD_

_- This is a rough Russian exclamation for 'bravo!' or 'well done!'_

_Enjoy!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Death and Darkness.**

Ch. 6

_A/N~ God being sick is a BITCH! Seriously! I suffered three fever spikes and it got bad enough where I was a disoriented mess, and mom took away my laptop (aka my baby aka my life) so I would, 'stop stressing myself out with my internet-life antics'. It's not STRESS damnit! It's character building pressure! There is a distinct difference!_

_Ahem, anyways, I recently got it back, and started writing like a madwoman. Ergo this chapter. Oh, and speaking of, breaking news. I am actually SHOCKED that 'Snake in the Grass' won out over 'Solitude and Darkness' in my poll. Seriously! Eight to three! A five vote difference! And there's not even gonna be porn in SinG! (Seriously, my het-o-meter is about as low as the ocean floor is to sea level.) But then again I doubt we'll get porn in SaD. A pairing is looking possible! But eh, we'll see on the porn._

_So on that note, __**THERE IS A NEW POLL!**__ Please see my profile page and vote for which pairing you would like to see in SaD! The poll will end on Saturday! _

_Please enjoy while I tear through my prompt fills! Muwahaha!_

Pairing: Pitch/Death (Male OC)

Genre: Humor, romance.

Rating: T (might change later if the prompter wishes)

_~S~_

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

In a somewhat ironic sense, Pitch hated surprises. The irony of the matter was in the fact that he liked to initiate 'surprise attacks' on people he wants to scare. They're not nearly as subtle as his usual tactics, but that's what he liked about them. The act of a light, almost nonexistent scratching sound was one thing, but a loud _bang!_ against the underside of your bed or the closet was another. Oh the jumps humans would perform when he was feeling frisky…and the absolute _fear_ was so sudden, like a shot of aged vodka on one's tongue. It was spicy and sharp, thrilling and electric. But as fast as it was to come, it didn't last as long as something more prolonged like a nightmare. But it was still a lovely experience on his part.

It was just when the surprises were on him, he found all patience in his being floored, and his fight-or-flight drive would kick itself into gear like a five alarm bitch. Spending centuries watching his back in case of an attack from one or more of the Guardians had long since trained Pitch into a sense of paranoia. And as much as Pitch despised their unintentional 'training' of his senses, the paranoia had more than once saved his hide in the long run.

But in short, Pitch loved the one giving the surprises. Being the one who's surprised, however, is not something he enjoys – nor will he ever, or so he thinks. Granted he would admit some surprises were nice; things like gifts and other such occasions that would have him swooning and preening were enjoyable.

This did not, however, include being _shoved into Santa's sack!_

"Let. Me. OUT!" he all but shrieked from his uncomfortable fetal position in the sack. He had tried using the dark confines as a means to escape, but the shadows in the sack would not yield to him. Probably some kind of spell or enchantment on the Cossack's part…*

He felt himself being dragged along the floor of what he could only assume was the Workshop – the obnoxious smell of cookies and sounds of bell-donned elves was a good testimony to this theory. He could also hear the other Guardians talking – or in Bunny's case, whining – in the background.

"Are you sure this was a good idea?" He heard Tooth inquire meekly.

"Geez, no wonder you guys did this to me. It's hilarious!"

"The bloody dag just put a hole in my FOOT!"

"Pitch! Please be stopping the squirming! We are trying to help!"

Help? Help with what!? What were these lunatics _thinking!?_

Pitch was about to ask these very same questions – maybe throw in a few of his own colorful words while he's at it – but was momentarily knocked speechless when the sack was presumably dropped and he landed painfully on his hip. Pitch felt like the knobby edge of the bone had suddenly punched a hole through his skin – though he was somewhat thankful he didn't land on his head he supposed.

He hissed as light broke out over the left side of his face, casting the assembled Guardians above him in a group of indistinguishable silhouettes.

"Well great, what do we do now?" he heard Jack ask.

"Oh I'll tell ya what we're gonna do. We're gonna take that dag outside, set him in front of the bloody sleigh, and run 'im over! OW!"*

"Hold still Bunny!"

Tooth's scolding was punctuated by the familiar shuffling of sand images forming, along with the tinkling of bells.

"No, we are going to make sure Pitch is well, then make sure he is staying put here in Workshop." North bellowed.

"And you think he's gonna stay willingly, because…?" Pitch had to give it to him, Frost was sounding like the smartest person in the room right now…

"Eh, I tell Yeti he is 'special' guest," North said, "I have rope too! And chairs. Lots of chairs."

"Pft, you gonna gag him with a fruitcake too?"

"Oh! Good idea, Jack!"

Oh like _hell_ they are!

"What the bloody _fucking_ hell is wrong with you all!?" Pitch promptly erupted from the sack, tearing the burlap fabric as his ire prompted his fingernails to grow into sharp claws.

He stood trembling, shoulders hunched, legs spread – exposing his upper thighs in a teasing flash – and teeth bared like a cornered animal. The others merely stared back at him with wide, startled eyes, as if they had just realized he was standing there. A long moment of silence and staring consumed the atmosphere like a dense fog. It couldn't be considered an awkward pause, but it wasn't very comfortable either – not when the air was vibrating with that much tension, all of which was radiating from Pitch himself.

Pitch narrowed his eyes at them, "Well?" he hissed.

"Listen, Pitch…" Jack held his hands up as he carefully approached the irked Boogeyman, offering him a charming smile, "We're just trying to help you and-"

"'Help me'?" Pitch repeated, eyes wide in utter disbelief, "Why in the name of the stars, the sun, and the bloody damned _Moon_ would _you_ want to _help me_ with _anything!?_"

"That's a good question, ya ungrateful galah…" Bunny muttered as Tooth attended to his impaled foot.

"Oh stick a carrot in it and blow it out your tail!" Pitch snarled. Everyone actually jumped slightly with how nasty he was being. They have all seen Pitch when he was broody and irked, but they've all never seen him do such an accurate impression of the cat-hater's cat after a bath.* Jack would swear he was practically puffed up like on too!

"Pitch, calm yourself!" North interjected before anyone could start snarling and spitting at one another, "We only felt it was not safe for you to be out right now. We only wish to keep you safe!"

"Safe…?" Pitch rasped, his narrowed eyes widening in astonishment. His gold eyes blinked slowly as his stance relaxed and straightened, a strange flurry of emotions rushing through his metallic orbs. The others relaxed, but only slightly, as Pitch's claws retracted, his eyes locked onto some other point in space.

"You…" he started, voice deathly calm, "Want to keep me…_safe_…" it was both a statement and a question.

Everyone nodded stiffly, expressions guarded yet expecting. They all seemed to hold their breath as their words seemed to slowly process into Pitch's brain. But at the same time, they were mentally preparing themselves for the worst. Pitch was like that one relative everyone hates to be around at the family reunion. That one person who's always dramatic, whining, complaining from the tiniest thing – they always needed to be kept happy, or at least content, so as to avoid someone having their necks snapped.*

So far, Pitch was not showing any signs of either being 'content' or preparing to blow his lid off. If anything, he seemed to be taking a long time processing the information. Not that any of them could really blame him; they probably would have reacted the same way if he had spontaneously decided he needed to 'help' them.

Tooth, the sweet woman, broke the tense silence.

"I know this is hard to take in now, Pitch, but if we didn't do anything, who knows what could have happened to you?" she said, "We ultimately decided to put off our differences to save you."

This was apparently the wrong thing to say.

Pitch's once slightly dazed expression morphed into an ugly scowl, black lips pulling back to reveal sharp teeth in an animalistic sneer.

"Save me…?" his fists clenched again. A strange black essence crept out of his fingertips and traveled up his arms, pulsing like inky veins.

The others visibly shuddered at the strange anomaly, but didn't comment on it. A tense silence settled among them once again, but this time it was far more eerie. The lights seemed to dim around them, and the air became thick with an unknown sense of humidity. The Guardians marked the strangeness of it up to nervousness and their own paranoia of Pitch. But when the lights started to flicker, and the once dormant shadows around the Workshop started to groan and writhe, they couldn't help but tense up and clutch their weapons close.

"_Save me_…?" Pitch repeated.

The Guardians were startled into taking a few steps back at the absolute death glare the Boogeyman was fixing them with. The odd black essence had crept up his arms and was now pulsing like ebony blood vessels along his neck, legs, belly, and, if they were behind him, his back. Their faces paled considerably when the same creeping anomaly sprouted out to rim around his eyes and down his cheeks, giving him an almost possessed and dead visage that looked all too grotesque against his grey skin and gold eyes.

North swore in his native tongue when the air around them seemed to take on a life of its own. A shrill, howling wind kicked up suddenly around them, jostling papers, toys, a few stray elves – anything smaller than a dog was suddenly airborne.

"How _dare_ you…" Pitch's voice seemed to reverberate off of the air itself, echoing in every nook and cranny.

The Guardians jumped to attention when the Boogeyman spread his legs out and bowed his arms and spine down to the ground. Without taking his eyes off of them, his fingertips brushed the floor, and in a flash of red, the floor seemed to evaporate and coalesce into a weapon. Pitch grabbed the rod of the weapon and drew up in a slow arch.

The blade now fully drawn, the Guardians couldn't stop themselves from staring in shock even if they wanted to.

"Death's scythe…?" Bunny rasped.

"But…but how?" Tooth breathed, her feathers ruffling from the sudden turn of events.

North, Jack, and Sandy fared no better in their shock, their eyes wide and mouths gaping. Sandy, being one of the more older spirits, was quickly trying to sort out just how Pitch got his hands on Death's scythe. There were only four people who could wield it besides Death himself; Father Time, Mother Nature, an apprentice to Death, or…*

Something seemed to click into place in Sandy's head, and it fair caused him to drop to the floor with his mouth gaping even wider. But he would never get the chance to flag down the others and explain just what he figured out.

"How **DARE** you!?" A blood curdling shriek left Pitch's now fang-filled mouth as he charged the Guardians with an unnatural speed, his robe billowing in his wake with various shadows flanking him.

It became apparent to the Guardians that Pitch was _pissed_…*

With an animalistic snarl, Pitch raised the scythe over his head and brought it down towards the Guardians, just as they all split up. The blade buried itself into the floor, causing what had to be at least an eight yard crack to stretch out along the floor. The fissure widened as the Boogeyman yanked it out of the floor and snarled at the separated Guardians.

"Pitch! Please be calming down! There is no need for violence!" North tried to reason. Though despite his words, his hands were tight and battle-ready around his sabers.

Pitch snarled and swung the scythe in a horizontal arch towards North. A shockwave flew off of the blade and slammed into North, knocking the large man onto his back. Shadows sprung from the floor around the red Guardian, binding his limbs like constrictors and wrapping around his mouth to gag him. He was thankfully unscathed, but this seemed to be the breaking point for a certain Guardian of Hope.

"Alright, that does it, mate." The Pooka tapped the floor with his good foot and disappeared into a tunnel.

"Bunny, what are you-WOAH!" Jack took to the air as Pitch rushed him and nearly cleaved his head off.

"Pitch! Stop this!" Tooth snapped. She kicked her wings into gear to dive-bomb at Pitch, her rapiers clutched in her hands.

Whether he saw her coming, or some other instinct was guiding him, Pitch spun on his heels and swung his blade. Tooth yelped as the flat of the blade slammed into her body and knocked her off to the side and into a wall. And like North, shadows sprung from the walls and bound her in place.

"Pitch! What the hell is your problem!?" Jack snapped from his vantage point in the rafters.

The ice sprite audibly swallowed at the completely and utterly _mad_ look Pitch fixed him. His teeth were bared like a rabid wolf about to pounce, his pupils constricted into narrow slits.

"Um…what I mean is, you kind of need to-"

Pitch let loose a grotesque roar that seemed to shake the entire Workshop, and drained all the blood from every face within a ten thousand mile radius. Jack felt his knees starting to shake in nerve-wracking fright at the display.

"Uh…n-never mind?" he tried.

Jack no sooner found himself being flung onto the floor by a stray shadow that coiled around his ankle. Others sprung up around him and, like Tooth and North, he found himself bound and gagged on the floor.

Jack struggled against his binds as Pitch loomed over him. The sprite flinched when the Boogeyman planted his sharp heels on either side of his waist, effectively pinning him to the floor and leaving him with no choice but to stare up at the proverbial (if not literal) bat out of hell.

Pitch leered down at him, his teeth grinding together loudly enough to be heard from Jack's spot on the floor. A beat passed before he raised the scythe over his head, the shadow of the blade gliding over the center of Jack's throat. The frost spirit doubled his efforts in struggling out of his binds, but the shadows did not relent and refused to let up. Was this seriously how he was going to have his _second_ death!?

A whip of gold suddenly shot out and gripped Pitch's wrists, attempting to yank them back. Pitch's head swiveled a full 180 degrees around – Jack felt a bit of nausea build up in his gut from the popping noises from Pitch's neck.*

Sandy stood a few meters off from the Boogeyman, whips in hand as he tethered the man's wrists and attempted to yank him back like he had done during their last encounter.

A hole suddenly opened up in the floor on the other side of Pitch's current peripheral vision, producing a certain Guardian of Hope armed with his boomerangs.

"Eat this ya bloody sod!" Bunny pulled his arms back and loosed his boomerangs towards Pitch, along with various egg bombs.

Pitch snarled and grabbed onto the cord of the tether with one hand. And with little to no effort, just as the boomerangs and eggs were about to land their mark, he yanked it back and cracked it like a whip. Exclamation points shot out over Sandy's head as the star suddenly found himself airborne and sent caroling into the fray of eggs and spinning wood. Bunny swore loudly as the now pastel-colored Sandman crashed into him, the velocity sending them straight into North's globe. Bunny landed spread-eagle on California with Sandy plastered to his front. Groaning, they slowly peeled back and landed on the floor with a loud 'fwump'.

The others watched in horror as Pitch downed not just Bunny, but the Sandman as well – the one being who could put Pitch in his place in the mere blink of an eye. And yet Pitch had somehow conquered him, plus Bunny, in an even shorter time with almost no effort…

Growling, Pitch snapped his head back into its forward-facing position and, with the flick of his wrists, snapped the whip off of his wrists. The sand shuddered before becoming an inky black and forming into a small group of all too familiar Nightmares. The equine beasts roared and stamped the ground as they hovered around Pitch and Jack. Frost stared up at him with wide, terrified eyes as Pitch raised the scythe once more and sneered at him.

"Looks like it's _your_ fear they smell…" he hissed.*

Pitch raised the scythe up higher as Jack snapped his eyes shut.

'_This is it…!'_ he thought. He could vaguely hear North and Tooth crying out to him through their bonds, but he barely paid them any mind.

Pitch brought the scythe down and-

Jack suddenly vanished from his position on the floor, causing the blade to imbed itself into the floor. Hissing in surprise, Pitch looked up from his bowled over position and snarled.

Death, one hand gripping Jack's hood from where he had yanked the sprite out from under the scythe's blade, stared back at Pitch impassively. He sighed and let the shaking sprite flop onto the floor by his feet.

"Really, Pitch, it's one thing to be kidnapped, it's another to take my things without asking and-whoa!"

Death ducked just as his own blade flew for his head. He stood back up, holding his hands up, as Pitch advanced on him.

"Well that was a bit uncalled for…"

Pitch merely shrieked incoherently at the other and swung the blade wildly yet accurately. The ebony clad man didn't seem the least bit afraid of having any parts of his body cleaved off with his own weapon. Instead he continued to swiftly dodge and duck Pitch's attempts to behead him. He led Pitch away from the others and into the center of the observation deck, all the while speaking to Pitch in an oddly calm tone.

"Pitch, come on, we had this talk about – hey! – controlling your anger when – yikes! – the subject of the Guardians come up, and you can't just-"

"**PISS OFF!**" the volume of the banshee-like shriek billowed Death's cloak and hood, as well as cracked a few windows and other glass items.

"Pitch, I am warning you, if you do not calm down and give me my scythe back, I'm going to-"

More incoherent shrieking and blade-swinging, this time Pitch managed to cut a small slit in the top edge of Death's hood, and just barely nicked his forehead.* Death's brow twitched; he had had enough by this point, and slipped into a defensive position.

"I warned you…" he sighed.

Without a second thought, Death rushed at Pitch with a speed that bellied Pitch's own. The Guardians thought he was going to finally kill Pitch, and struggled to make their protests. But what came next put them in a state of silence.

Death ducked under the final swing of his blade before he sprung up and forwards. Pale, leather clad arms shot out of his cloak, one arm wrapping around Pitch's waist, and the other hand cupping the back of the Boogeyman's head. The long and powerful arms yanked Pitch forward and dipped him down so his lower back arched inwards; and just when they thought it couldn't get any weirder, Death threw his hood back plunged his head down at Pitch's.

At first the Guardians were confused as to what they were seeing. But after staring at the display with a total of five seconds, it seemed to hit them like an eighteen wheel truck on steroids.

_Death was kissing Pitch._

Pitch froze as a cold tongue wormed its way into his mouth, the scythe poised over his head in the perfect position to plunge into Death's back. But he merely stared wide-eyed up into Death's face in a stupor.

The Guardians, meanwhile, were waiting for his shock to end and watch Pitch end Death himself. But if what they were seeing now was shocking, what happened next suddenly became the story of their immortal lives.

A full body shudder shook Pitch's body, a deep moan escaping him as his stunned eyes relaxed and rolled back into his head. His fingers loosened on the scythe before he abruptly dropped the weapon to the floor. His arms now free, Pitch slid them around Death's neck and shoulders, tangling his fingers into the other's wild silver-white locks to tug at a few of the small braids and ponytail.* His once rabid eyes slid shut as he lifted a knee up to rest against the other's waist. Death released Pitch's waist in favor of grabbing the offered thigh against his hip as he deepened the kiss and dipped Pitch further back.

The pair paid absolutely no mind to their audience. Even as the shadows slowly melted away from their prisoners, even as the black markings around Pitch's frame withdrew into his body, and even as the Nightmares dissipated and dissolved into the air, they were oblivious to the Guardians' gaping.

By this point, Sandy and Bunny had recovered and were rousing out of unconsciousness. But the moment their heads cleared and they locked eyes onto what was making the other three gape, they suddenly wished for the black safety of sleep. Sandy looked especially speechless, if not slightly disappointed.

There were only four people who could wield Death's scythe aside from himself; Father Time, Mother Nature, an apprentice to Death…

Or a spouse.

To be continued…

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

_A/N~ Sumi hates writing action scenes. Sumi hates it because she sucks eggs at it. Sumi also hates how this fight scene turned out. Sumi is now very sad. _

_Hahaha, so uh…read and review? XD_

_Hope you liked this Nuts, and hope Sumi made it up to you! Much love to you sweety!_

_- It is somewhat stated int he art book that Pitch can be rendered helpless is he is without shadows, or in this case, in darkness but not connected to any form of shadows along any solid platform. I imagine that, if he were, say, suspended in the air, even with it being dark, if there is no connection to the ground or any real shadows, he can't teleport through them._

_-...well geez, that's not nice. You deserve that hole in your foot, Bunny. BI_

_- The cat-haters cat is the cat that pees on your things, walks around yowling at nothing, scratches up your furniture, pukes on the clothes in your closet, and just generally hates your guts. It won't even let you pet it!_

_- Every family has at least one of these relatives. And if you do not, well then congratulations, you are now to be featured in an 'I love Lucy' commercial. _

_- OC headcannon! Death's scythe is one of a kind and cannot be wielded by just anyone. Others can use it with his permission, but only for a short amount of time. The only exceptions to this are Father Time and Mother Nature, both of whom created Death, a succeeding apprentice to Death, or a spouse. The spouse is somewhat tricky in that the lover and Death have to have had their relationship 'blessed' by either Time or Nature. If the spouse is accepted, he or she may wield Death's scythe, but only if they truly need it and do NOT use it to claim another's life. This rule is only broken if the spouse actually kills someone before their time with the scythe._

_- If you don't understand just WHY Pitch is so pissed, well, you'll get a rather nice explanation in the next chapter. Though to me it's pretty obvious. But then again, I'm the one writing this thing, so... *shrug*_

_- Headcannon. Hey, Pitch needs to be creepy and scary as hell, and who wouldn't cringe at a man able to twist his head around and put an owl to shame? _

_- This is a form of projecting one's pain onto the one who caused said pain. Yep, Pitch here still holds a nice grudge against Jack for both rejecting his offer and letting him be dragged off by his own creations._

_- Death cannot be killed very easily. The only way Death himself can be killed is either by Nature or Time's hand, or by his own scythe. His scythe is also one of the few weapons that can physically hurt Death._

_- If you have seen/read Kuroshitsuji or it's manga, Black Butler, my Death OC has a similar appearance to the anime's Undertaker. Only a little though; my Death has slightly shorter hair and will have a more eerie appearance down the line. The only real similarities the two share are the hair - they both have various small braid and cropped locks - and their fashion sense, not counting their shoes._


	7. Chapter 7

**Death and Darkness.**

Ch. 7

_A/N~ God I'm so fricken behind, it's not even funny anymore. 'Snake in the Grass' has won out on the update-frequently vote, so I'm gonna be focusing on that AFTER I get a much owed mini-fill out for the wonderful person who did that amazing pic of Pitch in one of his outfits. I'm a loser for taking so long. TwT_

_Oh and also…on my latest poll, SOMEHOW, the vote 'OC/Pitch' won out with five votes. What. The. F***. I thought people hated OC/canon pairings? What IS this? And I didn't even think to ask which OC the voters would want. I just…I just can't guys. No more. *rubs temples*_

_That being said, I am going to wait for the prompt OP to respond to what she wants to see in SaD, whether she wants a pairing or not. And if she does, great! I'll do it! But if not, well, tough nubs. I honesty did NTO expect to get this kind of reaction to the poll. I only put the OC/Pitch option in as a courtesy! But I digress, that was entirely MY fault. I need to take my polls more seriously and be a bit more thorough in my endeavors. _

_Oh, and also…_

_**DEATH AND PITCH ARE NOT RELATED!**__ This is an AU for a reason, and it is that, while yes, Mother Nature is heavily implied to be Pitch's daughter, she and Death are not actually related. Time and Nature are merely contributing factors to Death. Yes, they in a way 'created' him, but not in the sense in which some of you may think. Like time and nature, death is and always was. He didn't necessarily have a beginning. And besides, this AU is more focused on the movie verse, not book verse. I keep those two VERY separate until when and if a sequel connecting the two verses comes out. So in short, Death is not a 'son' to Nature, and therefore NOT Pitch's 'grandson'. I don't write that kind of shit. And as far as we know, MN is not Pitch's daughter in this AU. I hope this cleared up some confusion. Thx._

_Enjoy!_

Pairing: Pitch/Death (Male OC)

Genre: Humor, romance.

Rating: T (might change later if the prompter wishes)

_~S~_

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

They were still kissing. In the middle of North's Workshop. Oblivious or ignoring their audience.

_Why_ are they still kissing? _Why_ are they completely disregarding he and the others so blatantly? _WHY_ did he want to fly over there, clock Death in the mouth, grab Pitch and silently scream 'MINE' to everyone? Why can't the world just _make sense_ again!?

Sandy, for all his intelligence and calm logic, did not know. All he knew was was that he really wanted Death to quit _groping_ Pitch's _gorgeous_ thighs and explain to them (him) just _why_ he willingly put Pitch into such a dangerous position!*

And Jack, poor, sweet kid that he was, finally broke the silence of the staring.

"Uh…am I seeing right, or am I just really behind on the whole spirit-world culture thing?" he asked timidly.

"No, no mate, you're not seeing this. You are _not_ seeing Death and Pitch snoggin' each other in the Workshop," Bunny rasped, his furry brows twitching, "Nope, _I_ am not seeing this, _you_ are not seeing this, this is absolute _bull-!_"

"Will someone please explain to me why you two are trying to suck each other's souls out in front of us!?" Tooth suddenly shrieked, causing the other males to flinch away from her. But the two thoroughly engrossed spirits did not heed her.

Sandy, deciding now might be a good time to show his cards, marched straight over to the two oblivious lovebirds. He stopped in front of them, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently. His intense and disapproving glare garnered no response other than a low moan from Pitch, courtesy of one of Death's spidery hands tugging at his crested hair.

Sandy reached his breaking point when he noticed one of Death's hands making a beeline for the under of Pitch's robe.

The two face-suckers' make-out session was cut short by the sound of something being cocked, and the next minute they were being plowed down by a powerful jet of Dreamsand. Pitch and Death found themselves floundered onto the floor as the stream cut off, their clothes and hair glittering with Dreamsand.

"Pft! Gah! What the-!? SANDERSON!" Pitch snapped, trying to spit out the Dreamsand in his mouth.

Sandy, now content attention was on him, dissipated his Dreamsand fire-hose and planted his fists on his hips. He pointed at Death then to Pitch himself, a large set of question marks and exclamation points floating over his head.

"Ah, I do not think that is any of your business, Sandman. You-doh!" An elf was thrown into Death's face, toppling him back over onto the floor.

Pitch looked outraged, "Sanderson! What the bloody hell is wrong with you!?"

"What's wrong with him? What's wrong with _you!_" Bunny snapped, "We spent this entire _month_ worrying that the boney sob was going to kill you!"

Pitch's eyes narrowed, "Worried he…? What on earth are you lot talking about!?"

"We freaked out because skelly here was stalking you!" Jack exclaimed, "And now we're a bit confused here because you two were playing tonsil hockey!"

"Stalking…?" Pitch's eyes narrowed briefly before they lit up in realization.

It all suddenly seemed to click into place for him. His nasty scowl was back, but this time it was being directed at a recovering Death, "You…it was _you_ who caused this whole mess? _You_ were _stalking_ me?"

"Now, that's not entirely true," Death tried to amend, wiping the rest of the Dreamsand from his wild silver hair and throwing the elf from his person, "They were stalking you first. I merely came to check up on you that one time."

"Check up on-you provoked them you ass!" Pitch abruptly stormed over to Death and jabbed a finger into his chest, "What were you thinking!?"

"I was thinking that this lot had no right in sticking their noses into our personal affairs." Death retorted calmly. He did not seem the least bit intimidated by Pitch's hissy fit; if anything, he seemed amused by it.

Pitch seemed to bristle at his nonchalant attitude, "What is _wrong_ with you? You had them kick up all this fuss because you thought it would be AMUSING?"

"Well…yeah."

"Ugh, dear Moon…" Pitch groaned, rubbing his forehead, "You're just like your father…"*

"I resent that! And hey, you don't see me playing 'deja vu' with humans for a kick."*

"That may be true, but at least your father isn't causing mass panic among a group of dimwits who can't discern stalking from you being an asshole."

"But you _love_ panic!" Death exclaimed enduringly, "And you have to admit, this is incredibly ironic – they were scared _for you_ because of biiiig spoooky death."*

"You mean they were panicking like headless chickens because you wanted to get a kick out of me parading around with the 'idiot troop' on my tail!" Pitch snarled. His eyes suddenly widened, "Wait, is _this_ why you got me all those new robes? To SHOW ME OFF like some TROPHY?

"Not…entirely?" Now Death had the decency to look meek.

This, however, was obviously not a good answer. Pitch's cheeks took on a very interesting shade of purple at this. Swiftly crooking his knee, Pitch removed one of his thigh-high boots, and then proceeded to _hit Death over the head_ with it.*

"You lecherous _**pervert!**_"

"Ow! Oh come on, Pitch, you know it's not like that."

"I don't care! You were practically _pimping_ me out to a bunch of uncivilized nitwits!" another swing from his boot, this time prompting Death to duck before the sharp stiletto could take one of his garnet eyes out.

"Pitch, angel, I think we-"

"Don't you _ANGEL_ me!"*

'_I give up,'_ Jack thought, _'I fricken give up…'_

The other Guardians seemed to be thinking along the same lines as he was. There was just no way they were seeing Pitch throw _another_ hissy fit and beating Death with his own boot. The kissing was one thing, but this? This was too much. _Way_ too much.

"North…" he started, "What's happening…?"

"I believe this is what humans call an 'epiphany'," North muttered, "Or psychosis. Hard to tell."

"-had the best intentions, I really did," Death continued to fruitlessly defend himself, "Besides, I knew they would look FANTASTIC on you. For another, I figured you would want to wear something other than that old, shapeless robe you're always in. You needed something nicer.

"I happened to LIKE that old, shapeless robe!"

"It was just a thought…"

"And it was a sweet thought, but if you wanted me to go parading around half-naked, you need only ask, idiot."

"Really?"

"No. But I do like the robes though." It was said enduringly, but Death still got a nice goose-egg on his forehead courtesy of Pitch's boot.

It was amazing how random Pitch's moods could be. His mood-swings were so erratic, he could put a high-maintenance pregnant woman to shame.

Sandy blinked and eyed the slender immortal's abdomen. Dear Moon he hoped he wasn't…*

"Okay, please, be time for explaining now…" North started. The red Guardian was rubbing his temples irritably, obviously suffering a headache, "You and Death…are together?"

"No stupid, we just enjoy randomly jumping each other for the hell of it," Pitch snapped, "Yes we're together! What do you think!?"

"But _why?_" Tooth asked, "Pitch, even you know how something like this works. He's _Death!_ Everyone knows how dangerous a relationship of any kind is with him is!"

Pitch did not give an immediate response, instead he opted to stare down the Guardians with a deeply incredulous look. He seemed like he was mentally searching their expressions for some kind of explanation to their snooping, or he was trying to figure out what it was they were thinking. In the end, he merely scoffed with a mirthless grin and shook his head.

"You honestly haven't figured it out?" he rasped. He seemed to be wilting slightly, as if he were exhausted by the whole ordeal.

"Pitch, we are just trying to understand how you could have come into a relationship with Death," North said calmly, "It is not something that simply _happens_."

Pitch snorted and wrapped his arms around himself, as if he were trying to protect himself from an unseen foe. His fingers dug into his side and upper arm as Death placed an ivory hand on his shoulder. The Boogeyman merely gestured towards Death before presenting his back to the Guardians.

Death sighed, "Really, Guardians. It is rather simple…"

"Then explain to us why you decided it was a great idea to go to Pitch and get into his pants!" Bunny snapped.

"I did not go to Pitch," Death said somberly, "Rather, he called to me."

His statement was met with confused frowns. Death's words circulated through their heads a mile a second, trying to process and figure out just what he was implying. It was Sandy who seemed to catch on first, and the realization caused the color to drain from his face. He hesitantly gave his inquiry. Death nodded.

"Yes," he said, "You see, I can only be called when the _circumstances_ are right. I can only be summoned by those whose sands must be returned to Father Time, and their bodies returned to Mother Nature."*

"This goes for spirits as well," he continued, "It is rare, but when a spirit calls to me, it is almost always for one reason. And Pitch was no exception."*

"Wait…" Jack swallowed dryly as he came to his own conclusion with the other Guardians, "Are you saying…?"

"Indeed, Frost," Pitch grit out softly. He looked out over his shoulder at the Guardians, his eyes clouded with unadulterated rage.*

"The day you allowed my own Nightmares to drag me away, at exactly 9:53 PM, the day after Easter, I was to be _murdered_ by my Nightmares…"

To be continued…

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

_A/N~ *whistles* Wow, this took on a rather ominous turn! What's gonna happen next? WHO KNOWS BUT ME!? *evil cackle* Now off to try and update SiNG and hopefully get around to posting a promised mini-fill. _

_Enjoy!_

_- The 'danger' of being with Death is, quite honestly, not because Death himself is dangerous. It's actually quite the contrary, and will be explained in the next chapter! I think. I might have my numbers wrong._

_- Yep, Pitch has met Death's 'family' beforehand. Hah, can you imagine introducing the Boogeyman to Time himself as your boyfriend? It would be HYSTERICAL!_

_- This is kind of a bad joke I came up with. FT likes to rewind and play back certain incidents, or random scenarios, to confuse humans._

_- It...in all honesty, it IS ironic. I mean, considering the circumstances, the events of the movie, etc, it's quite a bit of a face-to-wall moment._

_- Yep. You read right people. Pitch is beating Death with his boot. Only in Sumi fics people. XD_

_- 'Angel' is Death's petname for Pitch. His other petnames include 'doll', 'babe', and if they're alone, drunk, or if Death is feeling like sleeping on the couch, 'Boogey-bear'. I shit you not._

_- No guys, he's not pregnant...unless you want him to be. *SHOTSHOTSHOTSHOTSHOT*_

_- Simple explanation here. Your death is technically just a way to say 'your time is up', ergo why Death mentioned Time's sands, all of which is given to every human from birth, and taken back at death. Your bodies are also a very 'natural' component, and are composed of various things you can find it nature itself. Flesh and blood are that of nature's jurisdiction, and therefore you are 'returned' to her when your body is buried. Simple._

_- Spirit deaths are a bit different to human deaths. This will also be explained later on, maybe in the next chapter._

_- The reason for why Pitch threw a hissy fit last time should be clear now. And if not...geez, okay, I'll explain. The Guardians were pretty much the cause for him being sucked back into his hole, and they did nothing about it and without thinking that perhaps a tea-party wasn't going to be going on down there. Now they suddenly show up and claim to want to 'save him'. Now, consider that when Pitch was basically left for dead in this AU. That's quite a bit of hypocritical contradiction._

_~S~_


	8. Chapter 8

**Death and Darkness.**

Ch. 8

_A/N~ Uuugh…what is this crap? What did I just finish? Aaaahhhh…!_

_Ahem, anyways, as I said to a few readers inquiring on this fic, well, it is now finished. The reason I took so long to update it was…well, you know that feeling you get when you do something you're so amped up about doing, but once time goes by and you look back and think, "god what was I smoking when I did this?". Well, this fic was that moment for me. I was frequently updating, and then suddenly, my spark for it went out and I realized it was WAY out of my criteria range. _

_But! Never let it be said I never finish a story. I do NOT abandon stories. And if by some reason I can't finish one, I'd adopt it out. But no, that's a worst case scenario. And so now, this is finished for the lovely Dreamwidth Anon Nuts! I am SO SORRY this took so long dear! I hope I made it up to you!_

_Once again, this story is done and out the window. Not one of my better works, but hey, you gotta start somewhere – particularly at the bottom in most cases. _

_Enjoy!_

Pairing: Pitch/Death (Male OC)

Genre: Humor, romance.

Rating: T (might change later if the prompter wishes)

_~S~_

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale…

He was still breathing.

That didn't sound right. It was a relief, yes, but…really, he should _not_ be breathing right now. But he was. He could feel his lungs straining against his ribs and taut skin. His limbs felt heavy and useless, like his bones had dissolved into jelly. Or perhaps his bones were just crushed to dust. That makes more sense.

But despite the pain, he was also…warm? Comfortable? Now that definitely did not sound right. Or perhaps this was his afterlife? To forever drift in this void of warmth and comfort, pain and constricting breath? He certainly couldn't see anything, or his afterlife was just so dark – oh irony – that he couldn't tell if his eyes were closed or not…

…wait.

'_No, wait…'_ his eyes _are_ closed.

Well then…now he just had to remember how to open them. Better yet, he had to find the strength to attempt the otherwise effortless feat. But as of now, Pitch was just starting to wonder how he was able to think with how weak and drained he felt.

A sudden cool sensation against his surprisingly feverish forehead now. It felt like a hand – a very cold hand. And almost against his will, Pitch felt himself sigh at the pleasant coolness against his heated skin and pressed further into the touch.

Sound. Like muffled speech being mumbled through a pillow. Pitch could not for the life of him figure out what was being said – or even if someone was talking to begin with.

The hand leaves, and Pitch feels himself slip into unconsciousness once more…

He awakes again after an unknown amount of time. It could have been hours, days, or weeks for all he knew. But now he was actually able to open his eyes, and his hearing seemed to sharpen and recover – he could distinctly hear the crackling of a fire somewhere off to his right. He could open his eyes now as well, but his vision was blurred and dotted with swimming black spots. Had he been blinded?

"Hey…" if he weren't so weak, he would have visibly startled or tensed from the sudden introduction of a deep, baritone voice to his right.

Footsteps – light, very light, despite what sounded like the shifting of thick leather. The bed – yes, he was in a bed, he realized – shifted as the person sat on its edge to his right. That same cool hand placed itself on his forehead, and his struggled to get his eyes to focus on the black and white blob above him.

'_Who are you…?'_ he wanted to ask, but found his voice lost and his throat dry and tight.

"Ah, here…" shift, the sound of glass and water. Suddenly a round edge was pressed to his lips, "Drink this. It's water."

Normally, Pitch would be overly cautious, but his mind was so foggy, and he was so damn thirsty. He threw any sense of caution to the wind and allowed this stranger to carefully tip the glass back and trickle the cool liquid into his mouth and down his parched throat.

And once that chilling liquid hit his empty stomach, blackness consumed him once more.

The next time he woke up, he found the energy to feel annoyance. He has – from what he can recall – passed out twice in under five minutes each time, and he was now quite done with feeling like a bedridden invalid. Nice as it was to sleep in an actual bed, he was ready to get better and find out just where the hell he was.

Opening his eyes, he was pleased to find his vision mostly cleared. There was still a bit of fuzziness around the edges of his vision, and a small handful of black spots – smaller now – but he could make out where he was at the very least.

He was, obviously, in bed like he figured the last time he was conscious. In a very nice bed too – he was staring up at a satin black canopy draped against four dark oak posters. Wispy shapes and skulls were carved into the dark wood, and a silky black comforter was draped over him, along with a thick wine-red quilt. That explained the once felt heaviness on his chest that seemed to nearly suffocate him. But now it was more of a pleasant weight than a compressor. The room was large, about the size of a master bedroom in your average manor. The walls were painted a deep red color, tasteful (to him) mid-Victorian and macabre décor lining the walls.

To his right was a stone fire place and mantle, all of which was lit and gave the room a pleasant orange-red glow. Furniture littered the fire place area – mostly leather chairs and loveseat – and all tied together with a round rug. The rest of the room was sparse, with only a few knick-knacks here and there, a couple large bookshelves to his left, a trunk, and a wardrobe.

A set of double doors made of the same wood as the bed sat ominously against the back wall facing the bed. And they opened not even a moment after his hazy eyes settled onto them.

Pitch felt his blood run cold.

He may not have met him personally, nor did he have any desire to, but he would recognize this particular spirit anywhere. No had to meet him to know who he was. It was as much a known fact as it was that the sky was blue.

Death.

'_Oh fuck my life sideways to hell and back…!'_ Pitch thought frantically.

He felt his hands clench into the bed sheets, suddenly tense and heart racing. Death stepped through the door, carrying a tray of what looked like some kind of drink and food. It took him a moment, but he soon realized Pitch was, in fact, awake now. He regarded the Boogeyman steadily, seeming surprised.

"You are awake." He stated, "Odd, I thought you would sleep for another day or so."

Either Death did not realize how ominously dangerous his words sounded, or he was just that blunt. But either way, Pitch was on edge. He was powerless, weak and unable to draw any energy from his shadows. And Death…he was a powerful entity. None could stand up to him, let alone match him in a one on one fight.

Spirits rarely ever saw Death. But when they did, it usually meant he had come to seek them out personally, for just as personal a reason.

"Have you come to kill me?" Pitch suddenly asked, eyes wide.

Death blinked, as if startled. Carefully, as if afraid the action would startle Pitch, he set the tray down on a side table by the door. Cautiously, he slowly approached Pitch with careful steps. Pitch was only further put on edge, and yet, a small part of his was outraged. He was not a cornered deer! Why was this spirit of death acting like he was tip-toeing around a startled animal?

"I am not here to harm you, nor reap your end." Death said carefully, studying the other.

Pitch would have scoffed if he wasn't so damn tense and – dare he say it – terrified. Why else would Death have him here in this…where was _here_ anyways?

"You are in my home," Death said, as if reading Pitch's thoughts, "I found you being mauled by your Nightmares. Three days ago."

Three…three _days_ ago!?

'_I…I've been asleep for three days!?'_ Pitch thought. Well he certainly felt like he had been in a coma – yet he did not feel the least bit rested.

One question escaped his gaping mouth though.

"Why…?" he rasped.

Biting his lip briefly, Death approached Pitch once more, stopping by his bedside. Pitch was too stunned and confused to really feel any sense of fear or apprehension. He did flinch, however, when Death reached out with a partly transparent hand and brushed a sharp nailed finger against his gaunt cheek.

"I will not lie. I was originally summoned to end your life," he said softly, "You were to be killed by those Nightmares."

Pitch swallowed dryly. Somehow, he wasn't nearly as surprised as he should probably feel. Death by Nightmares…Pitch almost laughed. Oh ye irony, thou art a heartless bitch.

"Why…?" he rasped again. _Why did you not kill me,_ was his unspoken question.

Death blinked slowly, his finger turning into a hand against the Boogeyman's cheek. His thumb brushed against an ashen ear, of which turned a dark purple at the tips as blood rushed through Pitch's head. Death gave a lopsided, wry smile.

"Because I am a weak man," he said, "And I would not simply let something as lovely as you perish so hellishly…"

**~x~x~x~x~x~**

"…and that's how I found myself in Death's care." Pitch concluded flatly.

The Guardians just _stared_ at him.

None of them could fully recall just _how_ they moved from the Globe Room, to one of the many cozy lounges in North's Workshop. Much less could they recall how the subject of how Pitch came to be Death's lover came up. But somehow they did, and were all perched on either overstuffed armchairs or, in Death and Pitch's case, a couch.

In fact, both we relooking rather cozy together – or at least Pitch was. He was partly burrowed into Death's side, the pale man's cloak wrapped tightly around him like a makeshift blanket. Death himself was looking rather nonchalant, despite almost having a lap-full of Boogeyman pressed into his side. He had an arm slung around Pitch's bunched shoulders, and once he was done surveying the Guardians, he continued from where Pitch left off.

"It is as he says, Guardians," he said, rubbing a hand along Pitch's forearm, "A call from a spirit on the Death List is one of the loudest things to me. His call for me was the utmost loudest I have heard in centuries."

"Get on with it, Death." Pitch growled. But despite his snarling and growling, he pressed further into the other's body. Death moved his hand from Pitch's arm to his waist, draping part of his cloak over the willowy man as he continued.

"As he said, when he was taken away by his Nightmares, he was supposed to be killed," Death said. He looked off into the distance briefly, as if reminiscing, "Death by consumption."

"Con…sumption…?" Jack rasped.

"It means they were going to _eat me!_" Pitch snapped without looking to them.

Stunned stares and gaping mouths was his only response. Death searched the five stupefied Guardians for any signs of response. But when he saw, and received, none, he sighed and pat Pitch's shoulder.

"Pitch's fear of being killed at the time was not unfounded," he said, "He was afraid they were going to kill him, and as Nightmares, it is their job to make the fear they sense as real as possible. It is only an 'in the moment' instinct of theirs, a glitch if you will. But at that time, they played on Pitch's then fear of death, and his already existing fear of being alone."

"He was a feast for them, and they became rabid. And around 9:53 that night, I showed up as they were about to kill him. But…"

A pause. A very intense, very unnerving pause to the Guardians. They were all practically on the edge of their seats. A beat passed before Death shrugged one shoulder and tightened his hold briefly on Pitch.

"What can I say? A moment of weakness suddenly became a very blissful few months."

Pitch snorted within the confines of Death's cloak, "Bliss my ass, I was bedridden for most of the time from my injuries and having my energy leeched by those beasts…"

"You weren't complaining." Death laughed. Pitch scoffed at the man and pushed out of the cloak and Death's hold.

"Regardless, due to those events, they didn't get to eat me, but they sapped away most of my energy and strength," he said, "Not to mention my injuries. Their fangs aren't just for show…"

"Wait, wait…" Bunny broke in suddenly, "You've been _staying_ with Death after that?"

"No, I've been crashing out under a rock," Pitch snipped dryly, "What do you think? Yes, I was staying with Death. I was unconscious when he found me, and didn't wake up for days."

A far off look crossed over Pitch's face suddenly, and the Guardians tried to mentally prepare themselves for more disturbing news. A few of them fidgeted uncomfortably, while Death looked on impassively. Pitch finally shook his head and crossed his arms, glaring at the Guardians.

"But nonetheless, I am recovering steadily and regaining strength," he said, throwing a sneer to the assembled spirits, "So you all can _stop worrying_ about my welfare."

It was said with such sarcastic venom, the Guardians found themselves recoiling slightly. The Boogeyman gave them no further comment, and turned on his heels to look at Death. Or more scowl at him. Jack was reminded of the few occasions he's seen mothers catching their kids doing something they shouldn't, and the disapproving frowns they would wear.

"Now then, if we are done here, I will see you at home…" he said. He strode for the nearest shadow in the corner, cast by the fireplace. He suddenly stopped and turned back to Death, his lips contorted in something reminisce of a pout.

"And you're sleeping on the couch tonight!" With that, he slipped into the deep shadow and vanished.

It was silent for the longest time. But like any awkward moment, it was broken by an even more awkward statement.

"So let me guess," Jack started with a grin, "His pick-up line was 'what goes together better than death and darkness'?

"No, his pick-up line was 'Death, stop staring at my ass and get me something to eat, I am starving'." Death replied nonchalantly.

"So romantic…" Bunny deadpanned.

"Isn't he though?" Death said with a fond grin.

And as they say, that was that.

Over the next few weeks, Death would drag Pitch into Santoff Clausen to check up with the Guardians, to make sure he was still recovering and instilling the required amount of fear into the world. Of course, he protested each and every time, nearly kicking and screaming like a child being taken to see a doctor. But in the end, he is always swept off his feet in a swooning mess by Death when all is said and done.

This didn't mean the Guardians liked the situation any better, though Jack seemed to be making the most out of it by collecting as much blackmail material from Death as he could.

Sandy would also just so happen to drown himself in eggnog on those nights Pitch was taken home by Death.

No one's sanity was expected to survive this ordeal.

End.

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

_A/N~ Augh…I hate this so much. But my bunny is dead, and I at least finished it. Poorly, yes, but…oh who am I kidding, this is crap. And I am so sorry. *cries forever* _

_I am so sorry Nuts, Sumi has failed in the utmost humiliating way possible…_

_Uh, enjoy?_

_~S~_


End file.
